{still 2004}
I'm getting older and his is the way my life has gone. I am putting it down into words because it has been hard for me most of my life to communicate in the usual accepted forms of communication. At 53 going on 54 the end of this month, the 31st. Being born nearly exactly in the middle of the century has had it's good and bad points and living as I do, on the edge of society in most of my life. As I age, which was where I started with this page, I do it slowly. I've aged very slowly because society has always misunderstood my behavior and instead of going for the best in me, they have always kept me in the worst light. {now 2012 as I copy this, maybe I am wrong here, maybe it was I all along who felt out of place, who never felt accepted, never felt as though I have belonged in the past I suffered from very low self esteem}
I can see how misunderstood many of us are and I feel for them too. I feel that we as a society really fail our peers. We put them into categories to make them easier to think about, that is the ones who aren't in the main stream except to say they have challenges that are not adequately addressed by this society. Until we start putting the emphasis on our social concerns we will always have unaddressed large-scale welfare issues.
The early morning gave me the impression that it is going to rain today. It is way warmer than the arctic chill that we were putting up with yesterday. I was agitated as I made my way out on my errands. The number of people seemed like they were all trying to cram a lot of living into a couple of short cloudy days trying to put off the inevitable coing of the next work week. Of course the work week has it's pluses in that we can think of an escape because we certainly don't want to think about all the social injustices except whether Bill Gates is making another billion dollars or why he doesn't fund the war in Iraq that our president dragged us into because of that false representation of the facts of the matters. Fear, that is what our society is running on and sooner or later that fear is going to mature into something really bad! Then all those who are worrying about the future and trying not to think about the present will realize their own worst nightmares.
So what did we get? My dad, my aging, society, fear and undisciplined writing style. It seem sto follow me since my whole life has been rather undisciplined. My focus waxes and wanes like the ever changing moon. My main point of existence is about getting closer to nature in the Bay Area. I am considering buying a boat and living on it as a sneak aboard at Berkeley Marina. Also, getting a job that pays a living wage, something that will keep me from being to stressed out trying to make ends meet.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Chapter 401 The Past As Seen From the Present and other such nonsense
9:42 pm October 12, 1987
the Thunder is Clattering in the distance and echoing off the buildings. I can see stars from my porch and some fog.
The air is real still and it will probably rain.
undated, but probably early 2009
A Lightening Bolt of Love, here, then gone in an instant!
U told me I've always had strength. I'm finding it now because I need it.
I need to be strong to ride on top of my feelings, our feeling come......
Writing has almost always been a release. Writing, journaling has always allowed me to be buoyant and rise about the process and release my apprehensions I might feel. Right now, this moment in time, this small pin head of time that folds and stretches out for us but is not even a speck of dust in the big picture is very uncomfortable.
It is uncomfortable because the feelings we shared, the distance is in real time. I know something of the way I'm feeling. You have told me many words, ideas validated my feelings telling me you feel similarly and to have struggled with how you feel. Now Creator and some time has allowed our feelings to seek their own level of strength, find a niche to live in. They are still here in us, but not all on the surface like they were for 30 days. We know they are there, they feel apart of us.
Lover, together we have walked through doorways that previously have been closed. I find an incredible challenge dealing with.....
You may feel a larger bunch of feelings that are overwhelming. You have opened a door to me and told me about the courage you believe I have. You have encouraged me to express to you all that I am feeling. Sometimes words are not accurate. I mean you no harm, or disrespect. You have revealed more of yourself to me and I am grateful that you have. You told me all the feelings we have expressed are real. I am glad of that because I am feeling a little confused by our downturn of communication. I know that you don't have the technology available to you and I do. I suspect you may have reached a point where you are over loaded with your emotional and physical pain, have had to take a step back. I have done this to hoping to let time percolate feelings the way it does.
We can go beyond what our past barriers were. What we think as our limitations will fall to the side. I can feel that now. I will be patient, you have told me I am and I know I am with others more than myself.
Life is easier when I have a structure, a foundation that I have been building that I can rely on. The trick of life is not to lose sight of the big picture. We each face different challenges. We have what we have got. What has brought us to where we are. For me it is that connection I feel with a source of the greater good, that powerful energy that connects all life on this planet and perhaps beyond.
Miscellaneous Chaos {part of the deception}
01-30-2006
{11 months before I leave for Portland. I don't think I know I am leaving yet because I have left work, to take a test at SBC for work. If I get the work, not going to leave. Hind sights..}
Waiting in the SBC staffing center to take the test. I should have left work earlier. Here 15 minutes early, but we are waiting. I paid $8 for parking up Webster @ Douglas Parking Lot. $8 a day, $40 a week or $160 a month. They must get some kind of break for signing up for a month at a time.
12:21 and no one but test participants in sight. I wish I had eaten lunch, it may have helped quell my nervousness. It was easy to get in, don't sweat it another first. Chris says he didn't pass the first time. All I can do is the best I can. Would make a nice Birthday gift though. I am attempting to stay calm, gazing at my P&W hat with the 2 UAL pins, Otis pin and no nuke pin on it. I'm 56 tomorrow and attempting to get a new career started with a company that I may have a chance to become a permanent employee. They are letting us in at 12:45. I suspect it was on of the test participants opening the door for the late person. To many details that don't concern me.
A person came to look at ID's and I wasn't on the list, but neither were some others. I'm not particularly surprised.
I was reading an article about Jerry Brown Mayor of Oakland in Sunday's Chronicle. It was saying how in 7 years he had not accomplished all he had hoped for. A citizen was talking about crime in the flats and how more police are needed. Jerry is now running for State Attorney General. Oh boy!
It is now 1:10 pm and people are wandering in. I find this to be disturbing because other testings I have been to, they lock the doors and if you aren't on time, you don't get in and it was requested when I called about taking the test that I show up 15 minutes early.
It is now 1:15 and the test has still not begun yet. I expected more organization, but surprises never cease. 1:25pm they are now calling people who filled out the applications incorrectly or incompletely. Now they are giving instructions about parking which I was told about on the phone. Now the facilitator is explaining the jobs they are trying to fill. The test crew is short handed today and it is now 1:45pm. She is going to review our TMT sheets questions. It is frustrating because she is doing this one participant at a time. It is now 1:55 pm. She is putting my TMT to the side. She is trying to determine which is us needs to take the test.
I don't have any recollection of having taken this test and don't know what the results may have been. I am now in Portland Oregon which tells me I took the test and what, failed. I don't know. I probably got distracted, as I know I did. Got a hold of someone from my past and everything else became less important. I made plans to move somewhere around July of 2006.
As late as Aug. 2006 I was still looking for work in SF Bay Area, but running into schemers etc.
December 18, 2006
The feelings I am getting are overwhelming and depressing. Just scraping the surface of what needs to happen as far as maintenance and Little Willies talents are being exploited by the landlord, the crazy man, the boss. Actually, he has to suppress most of his talent in order to work for this character! Sometimes my life seems so illusive, hard to get a grip on.
Sometime in early 2004
I'm aging. I am getting older inside. As strange a statement this might seem from a man going into his 54 year on the planet, it is true for me.
I've just taken a sip of my morning coffee and it is excellent. That is a feat since my last French press took a spinning dive from my stove top, first hitting the handle of one of my two cast iron fry pans, sometimes known as skillets. I knocked the handle with my elbow, setting it to spin and hitting the skillet. Although I heard the resounding clang of the pan and essentially felt I knew what was coming, I continued to to walk away, letting the freshly pressed contents spill down the face of the 1940's or 1950's Wedgewood Range and oven and then crash as the glass pitcher of the coffee maker; and continued to bounce it's way down the face of the stove. A stove that has seen untold kitchen tragedies over its long tenure as an appliance in servitude of us human beings. It has even seen time in a cave of a warehouse waiting for someone like me who had a nostalgic streak in them for a stove that had some character and closely matched his fathers middle name. The spelling is different, my pops being Wedgwood. the difference is the stoves are one and the Fine china is Wedgwood. Something to do with past relatives.
My father was an interesting character. Apparently, many of us Clyde's are interesting characters! I have found this to be true of myself too. Back to my pops, I didn't know much about him though for various reason and only learned about him, that he was a human being only when he had a stroke in the mid 1970's. I learned lots about him as a person from his clients at a bar in Santa Cruz, CA. It was called the Seaside Cavern and was much like it's name, a cave. It was dark and smelled of stale air, stale alcohol. It was painted green outside, maybe to emulate its place in nature, to make one think of walking into a secret hideaway. On the inside it was dark like a cave. It had dark stained wood, much of the stain coming from the smoke of countless cigarettes, cigars and pipes that were being smoked by patrons and the owner alike. Sometimes the smoke was so thick in there it was hard to see across the room. When looking out the entry door one evening I thought the fog had come in, but discovered it was clear as crystal outside. I drove by it as recently as 2012 and it is a Little Cesar's Pizza shop. The Seaside belonged to a dying group of bars in Santa Cruz. There was the Eastside over on Soquel Ave. The Asti over on Pacific Ave. and the Seaside Cavern. These were all bars that were dying and after having some success in previous decades.
When my father bought the Seaside in the early 1970's it was owned by a couple of semi retired guys, one a truck driver and the other a commercial fisherman. The fisherman's name was Bobby Fazio. Bobby always wore a maroon jump suit with short sleeves. He had dark brown wavy hair and was about 50 back then. Bobby was a wheeler dealer, always had some guy coming by the bar when he was working to show him something, sell him a fish etc. People would come to the side door to the left of the bar down a driveway where he parked his pickup truck. He was the only one who parked there. That was made very clear to me right from the get go by Jim. Bobby had a problem with alcohol and new much more about his problem than I was yet to find out about mine. The other guy was Jim was probably about 65 or so and I don't recollect his last name but can describe him. He was big, over 6 feet, had a big barrel chest, a stern face like he didn't approve, but mostly kept his opinions to himself. He almost always wore plaid short sleeve cotton shirts, was married, drove a big Buick Electra and seemed to view me as the spoiled kid I was. He taught me the bar business pretty well. He brought his wife in occasionally an aging blond and they were making the circuit of bars including the Asti, the Eastside and the Seaside and Pasatiempo Inn among others. They were almost certainly Republicans, although we didn't talk about politics. Those guys were a couple of characters and my dad fit right in with them. Kept them on after he bought the bar from them. My dad had expressed to me in the past he wanted a bar for a long time. He had looked at others over a period of time but the sellers often lied about their books and their income. My dad was a statistician and really smart with numbers and could look at the businesses books and work the figures in his head and tell you what he didn't like about the figures posted that the money didn't add up. It must have had some attraction to buy that old tired place. He never shared his thoughts about that place or if he did, I was not in my body at the time.
Joseph Wedgwood Clyde was a genius. My aunt Ralda thinks that the two Clyde brothers were of equal intelligence. My Uncle Joseph John Clyde Jr. My uncle told me before he passed that when the family lived in Oakland and were attending high school he and my dad would walk home from school, stop at the library on the way home and check out a book and then stop by the grocery store and each get a beer. I guess the person in the grocery would sell to them because that is just the way it was and they were only getting one. Then they would walk the rest of the way home, take off their shirts, sit in the back yard in the sun and drink their beers and read their book. The books were finished about the time the beer was all finished. They read a book a day. Both of them had problems with alcohol up into their 50's or so, my dad past then. My uncle went to AA for a good stretch and thought he had a handle on it. {My sisters know more than I. }
the Thunder is Clattering in the distance and echoing off the buildings. I can see stars from my porch and some fog.
The air is real still and it will probably rain.
undated, but probably early 2009
A Lightening Bolt of Love, here, then gone in an instant!
U told me I've always had strength. I'm finding it now because I need it.
I need to be strong to ride on top of my feelings, our feeling come......
Writing has almost always been a release. Writing, journaling has always allowed me to be buoyant and rise about the process and release my apprehensions I might feel. Right now, this moment in time, this small pin head of time that folds and stretches out for us but is not even a speck of dust in the big picture is very uncomfortable.
It is uncomfortable because the feelings we shared, the distance is in real time. I know something of the way I'm feeling. You have told me many words, ideas validated my feelings telling me you feel similarly and to have struggled with how you feel. Now Creator and some time has allowed our feelings to seek their own level of strength, find a niche to live in. They are still here in us, but not all on the surface like they were for 30 days. We know they are there, they feel apart of us.
Lover, together we have walked through doorways that previously have been closed. I find an incredible challenge dealing with.....
You may feel a larger bunch of feelings that are overwhelming. You have opened a door to me and told me about the courage you believe I have. You have encouraged me to express to you all that I am feeling. Sometimes words are not accurate. I mean you no harm, or disrespect. You have revealed more of yourself to me and I am grateful that you have. You told me all the feelings we have expressed are real. I am glad of that because I am feeling a little confused by our downturn of communication. I know that you don't have the technology available to you and I do. I suspect you may have reached a point where you are over loaded with your emotional and physical pain, have had to take a step back. I have done this to hoping to let time percolate feelings the way it does.
We can go beyond what our past barriers were. What we think as our limitations will fall to the side. I can feel that now. I will be patient, you have told me I am and I know I am with others more than myself.
Life is easier when I have a structure, a foundation that I have been building that I can rely on. The trick of life is not to lose sight of the big picture. We each face different challenges. We have what we have got. What has brought us to where we are. For me it is that connection I feel with a source of the greater good, that powerful energy that connects all life on this planet and perhaps beyond.
Miscellaneous Chaos {part of the deception}
01-30-2006
{11 months before I leave for Portland. I don't think I know I am leaving yet because I have left work, to take a test at SBC for work. If I get the work, not going to leave. Hind sights..}
Waiting in the SBC staffing center to take the test. I should have left work earlier. Here 15 minutes early, but we are waiting. I paid $8 for parking up Webster @ Douglas Parking Lot. $8 a day, $40 a week or $160 a month. They must get some kind of break for signing up for a month at a time.
12:21 and no one but test participants in sight. I wish I had eaten lunch, it may have helped quell my nervousness. It was easy to get in, don't sweat it another first. Chris says he didn't pass the first time. All I can do is the best I can. Would make a nice Birthday gift though. I am attempting to stay calm, gazing at my P&W hat with the 2 UAL pins, Otis pin and no nuke pin on it. I'm 56 tomorrow and attempting to get a new career started with a company that I may have a chance to become a permanent employee. They are letting us in at 12:45. I suspect it was on of the test participants opening the door for the late person. To many details that don't concern me.
A person came to look at ID's and I wasn't on the list, but neither were some others. I'm not particularly surprised.
I was reading an article about Jerry Brown Mayor of Oakland in Sunday's Chronicle. It was saying how in 7 years he had not accomplished all he had hoped for. A citizen was talking about crime in the flats and how more police are needed. Jerry is now running for State Attorney General. Oh boy!
It is now 1:10 pm and people are wandering in. I find this to be disturbing because other testings I have been to, they lock the doors and if you aren't on time, you don't get in and it was requested when I called about taking the test that I show up 15 minutes early.
It is now 1:15 and the test has still not begun yet. I expected more organization, but surprises never cease. 1:25pm they are now calling people who filled out the applications incorrectly or incompletely. Now they are giving instructions about parking which I was told about on the phone. Now the facilitator is explaining the jobs they are trying to fill. The test crew is short handed today and it is now 1:45pm. She is going to review our TMT sheets questions. It is frustrating because she is doing this one participant at a time. It is now 1:55 pm. She is putting my TMT to the side. She is trying to determine which is us needs to take the test.
I don't have any recollection of having taken this test and don't know what the results may have been. I am now in Portland Oregon which tells me I took the test and what, failed. I don't know. I probably got distracted, as I know I did. Got a hold of someone from my past and everything else became less important. I made plans to move somewhere around July of 2006.
As late as Aug. 2006 I was still looking for work in SF Bay Area, but running into schemers etc.
December 18, 2006
The feelings I am getting are overwhelming and depressing. Just scraping the surface of what needs to happen as far as maintenance and Little Willies talents are being exploited by the landlord, the crazy man, the boss. Actually, he has to suppress most of his talent in order to work for this character! Sometimes my life seems so illusive, hard to get a grip on.
Sometime in early 2004
I'm aging. I am getting older inside. As strange a statement this might seem from a man going into his 54 year on the planet, it is true for me.
I've just taken a sip of my morning coffee and it is excellent. That is a feat since my last French press took a spinning dive from my stove top, first hitting the handle of one of my two cast iron fry pans, sometimes known as skillets. I knocked the handle with my elbow, setting it to spin and hitting the skillet. Although I heard the resounding clang of the pan and essentially felt I knew what was coming, I continued to to walk away, letting the freshly pressed contents spill down the face of the 1940's or 1950's Wedgewood Range and oven and then crash as the glass pitcher of the coffee maker; and continued to bounce it's way down the face of the stove. A stove that has seen untold kitchen tragedies over its long tenure as an appliance in servitude of us human beings. It has even seen time in a cave of a warehouse waiting for someone like me who had a nostalgic streak in them for a stove that had some character and closely matched his fathers middle name. The spelling is different, my pops being Wedgwood. the difference is the stoves are one and the Fine china is Wedgwood. Something to do with past relatives.
My father was an interesting character. Apparently, many of us Clyde's are interesting characters! I have found this to be true of myself too. Back to my pops, I didn't know much about him though for various reason and only learned about him, that he was a human being only when he had a stroke in the mid 1970's. I learned lots about him as a person from his clients at a bar in Santa Cruz, CA. It was called the Seaside Cavern and was much like it's name, a cave. It was dark and smelled of stale air, stale alcohol. It was painted green outside, maybe to emulate its place in nature, to make one think of walking into a secret hideaway. On the inside it was dark like a cave. It had dark stained wood, much of the stain coming from the smoke of countless cigarettes, cigars and pipes that were being smoked by patrons and the owner alike. Sometimes the smoke was so thick in there it was hard to see across the room. When looking out the entry door one evening I thought the fog had come in, but discovered it was clear as crystal outside. I drove by it as recently as 2012 and it is a Little Cesar's Pizza shop. The Seaside belonged to a dying group of bars in Santa Cruz. There was the Eastside over on Soquel Ave. The Asti over on Pacific Ave. and the Seaside Cavern. These were all bars that were dying and after having some success in previous decades.
When my father bought the Seaside in the early 1970's it was owned by a couple of semi retired guys, one a truck driver and the other a commercial fisherman. The fisherman's name was Bobby Fazio. Bobby always wore a maroon jump suit with short sleeves. He had dark brown wavy hair and was about 50 back then. Bobby was a wheeler dealer, always had some guy coming by the bar when he was working to show him something, sell him a fish etc. People would come to the side door to the left of the bar down a driveway where he parked his pickup truck. He was the only one who parked there. That was made very clear to me right from the get go by Jim. Bobby had a problem with alcohol and new much more about his problem than I was yet to find out about mine. The other guy was Jim was probably about 65 or so and I don't recollect his last name but can describe him. He was big, over 6 feet, had a big barrel chest, a stern face like he didn't approve, but mostly kept his opinions to himself. He almost always wore plaid short sleeve cotton shirts, was married, drove a big Buick Electra and seemed to view me as the spoiled kid I was. He taught me the bar business pretty well. He brought his wife in occasionally an aging blond and they were making the circuit of bars including the Asti, the Eastside and the Seaside and Pasatiempo Inn among others. They were almost certainly Republicans, although we didn't talk about politics. Those guys were a couple of characters and my dad fit right in with them. Kept them on after he bought the bar from them. My dad had expressed to me in the past he wanted a bar for a long time. He had looked at others over a period of time but the sellers often lied about their books and their income. My dad was a statistician and really smart with numbers and could look at the businesses books and work the figures in his head and tell you what he didn't like about the figures posted that the money didn't add up. It must have had some attraction to buy that old tired place. He never shared his thoughts about that place or if he did, I was not in my body at the time.
Joseph Wedgwood Clyde was a genius. My aunt Ralda thinks that the two Clyde brothers were of equal intelligence. My Uncle Joseph John Clyde Jr. My uncle told me before he passed that when the family lived in Oakland and were attending high school he and my dad would walk home from school, stop at the library on the way home and check out a book and then stop by the grocery store and each get a beer. I guess the person in the grocery would sell to them because that is just the way it was and they were only getting one. Then they would walk the rest of the way home, take off their shirts, sit in the back yard in the sun and drink their beers and read their book. The books were finished about the time the beer was all finished. They read a book a day. Both of them had problems with alcohol up into their 50's or so, my dad past then. My uncle went to AA for a good stretch and thought he had a handle on it. {My sisters know more than I. }
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Chapter 400
I was laying in my van reading my current book, Rad Dad dispatches from the frontiers of fatherhood.
Edited by Tomas Moniz and Jeremy Adam Smith
Microcosm Publishing 2011
It is so fresh, I was thinking it was published in 2012. Rad Dad simply stated should be enough to suggest it is not ones traditional fatherhood book. One has to have left their prejudices behind before they can make headway in this book.
It is a group of stories from fathers to be or fathers already. It is current and deals with many aspects of gender, privilege, race etc. It is stirring me to write, causing me to want some companionship, a friend gender, race don't matter.
This is an aside of how I am feeling. I have been putting off going someplace today. I feel isolated and don't want to do it by myself. My insecurities are living on the top of my skin, paralyzing me. So be it. I will not go away from the house today. Part of that is probably because the past two days I took prescription medication for my back which I slept over night and woke up really sore possibly because of a pinched nerve. It was so sore I could barely walk. That was on the 19th over to the 20th. The morning of the 20th I took in succession one at a time, two 500 mg. acetaminophen. They didn't do anything to even take the pain down. I had to walk with my cane that I got for my knee issue. That night, I took a 5 mg. oxycodone a synthetic opiate that the doctors had given me for my knee issue. I never took it for that because when I had that issue, I also tore out all the nerves and had no feeling after the initial pain that was beyond almost anything I have ever experienced. Of course, I have a high pain threshold or so I am told by various medical people. So, I took that two days in a row and hot baths trying to break the cycle of pain. It feels like I have done it. I will not take it again because it is an addictive medicine. In 2007 when I had kidney stones, they gave me morphine in the drip. They told me up to 6 grains was available. I stopped them at 2 grains. That brought that pain at 10 on a scale of 1-10 down to a tolerable 4. I didn't want to be numb. So, I am thinking that my feelings of isolation are compounded by the Oxycodone.
You might wonder, why I am laying in my van reading. I feel at home there, where it is light and warm and I have slept there many times when laid over from work or on a road trip. This van is as much mine as any vehicle I have ever owned. It has been with me for 12 years, an old friend and trouble for me too. It has been part of my life for a long time, but not as much a companion as a pet or a friend because it doesn't talk back.
Reading this book that I picked from a friends book shelf before my train trip to CA, thinking I would just sit on the train and read was far from what actually took place. I must return the book. I have had it now for a month and it is getting a little warn. I am more conscious of it more because it is not mine. If it was mine, I wouldn't pay that much attention. I pay more attention to things I've borrowed than things that are mine.
I had big plans for this summer, but I am slow to implement my own plans.
I have a whole bin full of journals and other note books I wanted to convert into digital material, but that didn't come about. I waste a lot of time surfing the net, playing solitaire. I have been forcing myself to read the book. When I read it I feel more connected, not so isolated. I think of the men in my family and how I am the only one left of my grandfathers, my dad, my uncle and my cousin who was like my older brother. I think of the men friends I've had and how I miss the old young Fred. He is now the old rather at a loss Fred, lost and over whelmed Fred. I think of my friend Ricky who was murdered back in 1992 and my friend Mark E. who I saw on my trip to CA. I am not close to any of these, have survived many of them and my friend Tom Steers up in Watsonville, CA. He is out of my league now, lot's of money. He may visit and it would be cool if I had a motorcycle so when he visited I could ride with him.
I think of my friend Jim Burkhart. He writes and we share the same birthday. We remain distant friends.
I suppose things with me happen differently than I think they should and I need to be patient. I was thinking in my van about how chaotic my life still is, how I am so far out there. Not that far, not so far when I read Rad Dad.
Tomorrow will be another chapter. Yesterday was another chapter. Bus yard, bid day, got my old route with only 2 changes so far. They took out a stop and added a new one with a new turnaround. That makes three turnarounds now. I am required to dry run it. That is work at minimum wage and drive the empty bus along the route getting familiar where the stops are and how long it might take me.
Summer is almost over, school is almost in session again. School starts Sept. 5 a Wed. this year. We have new buses, new drivers and on October 4 I will have been doing this for 5 years. 5 years is a long time to reach the top of the pay scale, but that is where I will be. Finally, making another top wage that is lower than the past has seen. The thing about it is, I have a place and I am looking towards the future. The future is a goal I am working towards with a new living situation. I a little frightened because it is the unknown, but I have faced the unknown before and know that I really don't have anything to fear. My plans are solid and will give me a boost in my self esteem and my ability to get out there and take road trips. Once I get that plan into place I will then think about a new goal. One goal at a time. One chapter at a time. One moment at a time, drip, drip, drip....
Edited by Tomas Moniz and Jeremy Adam Smith
Microcosm Publishing 2011
It is so fresh, I was thinking it was published in 2012. Rad Dad simply stated should be enough to suggest it is not ones traditional fatherhood book. One has to have left their prejudices behind before they can make headway in this book.
It is a group of stories from fathers to be or fathers already. It is current and deals with many aspects of gender, privilege, race etc. It is stirring me to write, causing me to want some companionship, a friend gender, race don't matter.
This is an aside of how I am feeling. I have been putting off going someplace today. I feel isolated and don't want to do it by myself. My insecurities are living on the top of my skin, paralyzing me. So be it. I will not go away from the house today. Part of that is probably because the past two days I took prescription medication for my back which I slept over night and woke up really sore possibly because of a pinched nerve. It was so sore I could barely walk. That was on the 19th over to the 20th. The morning of the 20th I took in succession one at a time, two 500 mg. acetaminophen. They didn't do anything to even take the pain down. I had to walk with my cane that I got for my knee issue. That night, I took a 5 mg. oxycodone a synthetic opiate that the doctors had given me for my knee issue. I never took it for that because when I had that issue, I also tore out all the nerves and had no feeling after the initial pain that was beyond almost anything I have ever experienced. Of course, I have a high pain threshold or so I am told by various medical people. So, I took that two days in a row and hot baths trying to break the cycle of pain. It feels like I have done it. I will not take it again because it is an addictive medicine. In 2007 when I had kidney stones, they gave me morphine in the drip. They told me up to 6 grains was available. I stopped them at 2 grains. That brought that pain at 10 on a scale of 1-10 down to a tolerable 4. I didn't want to be numb. So, I am thinking that my feelings of isolation are compounded by the Oxycodone.
You might wonder, why I am laying in my van reading. I feel at home there, where it is light and warm and I have slept there many times when laid over from work or on a road trip. This van is as much mine as any vehicle I have ever owned. It has been with me for 12 years, an old friend and trouble for me too. It has been part of my life for a long time, but not as much a companion as a pet or a friend because it doesn't talk back.
Reading this book that I picked from a friends book shelf before my train trip to CA, thinking I would just sit on the train and read was far from what actually took place. I must return the book. I have had it now for a month and it is getting a little warn. I am more conscious of it more because it is not mine. If it was mine, I wouldn't pay that much attention. I pay more attention to things I've borrowed than things that are mine.
I had big plans for this summer, but I am slow to implement my own plans.
I have a whole bin full of journals and other note books I wanted to convert into digital material, but that didn't come about. I waste a lot of time surfing the net, playing solitaire. I have been forcing myself to read the book. When I read it I feel more connected, not so isolated. I think of the men in my family and how I am the only one left of my grandfathers, my dad, my uncle and my cousin who was like my older brother. I think of the men friends I've had and how I miss the old young Fred. He is now the old rather at a loss Fred, lost and over whelmed Fred. I think of my friend Ricky who was murdered back in 1992 and my friend Mark E. who I saw on my trip to CA. I am not close to any of these, have survived many of them and my friend Tom Steers up in Watsonville, CA. He is out of my league now, lot's of money. He may visit and it would be cool if I had a motorcycle so when he visited I could ride with him.
I think of my friend Jim Burkhart. He writes and we share the same birthday. We remain distant friends.
I suppose things with me happen differently than I think they should and I need to be patient. I was thinking in my van about how chaotic my life still is, how I am so far out there. Not that far, not so far when I read Rad Dad.
Tomorrow will be another chapter. Yesterday was another chapter. Bus yard, bid day, got my old route with only 2 changes so far. They took out a stop and added a new one with a new turnaround. That makes three turnarounds now. I am required to dry run it. That is work at minimum wage and drive the empty bus along the route getting familiar where the stops are and how long it might take me.
Summer is almost over, school is almost in session again. School starts Sept. 5 a Wed. this year. We have new buses, new drivers and on October 4 I will have been doing this for 5 years. 5 years is a long time to reach the top of the pay scale, but that is where I will be. Finally, making another top wage that is lower than the past has seen. The thing about it is, I have a place and I am looking towards the future. The future is a goal I am working towards with a new living situation. I a little frightened because it is the unknown, but I have faced the unknown before and know that I really don't have anything to fear. My plans are solid and will give me a boost in my self esteem and my ability to get out there and take road trips. Once I get that plan into place I will then think about a new goal. One goal at a time. One chapter at a time. One moment at a time, drip, drip, drip....
Monday, June 18, 2012
5 days and running
Today is my 5th day off work after the last day of school on the 13th of June. What a day that was! Got passed in my school bus by a little white import car across the double line, going up a hill while I was making a 90 degree left turn with another car coming down the hill. Naturally the little white car, short for asshole driver, had to veer quickly in front of my bus to avoid hitting approaching car head on. I smashed the brake pedal down hard, stopping the bus to avoid getting hit by the asshole!
No way to start the last day of school.
Back to day 5. Fathers day is over and our refrigerator is filled with two kinds of beer, one cheap USA beer with blue in it's name and the other cheap Mexican beer with blue in it's label. And that following my housemate/landlords short fast 3 day weekend with house guests and partying at places soon forgot with friends he will never forget unless he is in a coma. A coma could likely happen the way he drinks! He is a binge drinker, but explains to me it is who they are.
I am actively looking for a new place to live having lived here 21/2 years and nothing has changed except perhaps it is raining in the 3rd week of June. It reminds me of the summer of 1976 when I took a trip to the Northwest and there was record rain in July! On my way to Montana while driving I had to stop in Blackfoot Idaho and help sand bag the town because of the broken black foot dam. Apparently all that rain could not be contained and interstate Hwy. 15 was so flooded only high wheel trucks could slowly get through. We aren't having that much rain.
Onward! Rodney King has dies at the age of 47. Wow and I am 62 and still moving forward into semi retirement. How do we live, how to we come to our end. Life is a big mystery and what happens after death only the dead will know or not. I don't think there is life after death. I think we have this life and when it is done, so are we. So, we must cherish what we have and do what we can to make the world better for those who come after us. However, that is not everybody's view is it? Look at the way our society has lead all of us to use, consume, use all that we can get, Greedy! Our society, our capitalist system is greedy wanting more and more all the time. More for business, less for the common person. See what happens, once I start, stopping is difficult. I don't want this to turn into my political rant!
I have to get ready soon, my physical to maintain my medical card and my Oregon Dept. of Education card, green so that I am deemed healthy to transport children all over the state. I expect to get some charter work in the coming days but a lot of things are happening at our bus yard. New buses are coming and they have to be Oregonized. I did not sign up for that minimum wage work, just charter if you please. $13.89 an hour. There is also a contract suggestion committee today and I was not invited but found out about it. I have my physical at that time, mostly waiting for my physical. I told my union rep I would not take no for the answer to my signing up for the committee this time like last time. I sent her a text telling her I was sorry to miss this meeting, having my physical to attend, but would come to the next meeting. It pisses me off that I have this conflict.
It is the 5th day of not working. In July, I will be counting the days before getting on a train to CA. In a couple of months down the road I will be back counting at 5 days left before going back to school. In Jan. of next year, I will be counting the days to my 63rd birthday. Time is moving on drip, drip, drip.
No way to start the last day of school.
Back to day 5. Fathers day is over and our refrigerator is filled with two kinds of beer, one cheap USA beer with blue in it's name and the other cheap Mexican beer with blue in it's label. And that following my housemate/landlords short fast 3 day weekend with house guests and partying at places soon forgot with friends he will never forget unless he is in a coma. A coma could likely happen the way he drinks! He is a binge drinker, but explains to me it is who they are.
I am actively looking for a new place to live having lived here 21/2 years and nothing has changed except perhaps it is raining in the 3rd week of June. It reminds me of the summer of 1976 when I took a trip to the Northwest and there was record rain in July! On my way to Montana while driving I had to stop in Blackfoot Idaho and help sand bag the town because of the broken black foot dam. Apparently all that rain could not be contained and interstate Hwy. 15 was so flooded only high wheel trucks could slowly get through. We aren't having that much rain.
Onward! Rodney King has dies at the age of 47. Wow and I am 62 and still moving forward into semi retirement. How do we live, how to we come to our end. Life is a big mystery and what happens after death only the dead will know or not. I don't think there is life after death. I think we have this life and when it is done, so are we. So, we must cherish what we have and do what we can to make the world better for those who come after us. However, that is not everybody's view is it? Look at the way our society has lead all of us to use, consume, use all that we can get, Greedy! Our society, our capitalist system is greedy wanting more and more all the time. More for business, less for the common person. See what happens, once I start, stopping is difficult. I don't want this to turn into my political rant!
I have to get ready soon, my physical to maintain my medical card and my Oregon Dept. of Education card, green so that I am deemed healthy to transport children all over the state. I expect to get some charter work in the coming days but a lot of things are happening at our bus yard. New buses are coming and they have to be Oregonized. I did not sign up for that minimum wage work, just charter if you please. $13.89 an hour. There is also a contract suggestion committee today and I was not invited but found out about it. I have my physical at that time, mostly waiting for my physical. I told my union rep I would not take no for the answer to my signing up for the committee this time like last time. I sent her a text telling her I was sorry to miss this meeting, having my physical to attend, but would come to the next meeting. It pisses me off that I have this conflict.
It is the 5th day of not working. In July, I will be counting the days before getting on a train to CA. In a couple of months down the road I will be back counting at 5 days left before going back to school. In Jan. of next year, I will be counting the days to my 63rd birthday. Time is moving on drip, drip, drip.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Writing is my time traveling companion....
In my life, there are always to many words. I struggle to find the correct order to put the words, the words themselves and figuring out which words to use and where in my head they are hiding. Yes, the words are hiding. My selection process for finding the words is hindered by my own limitations. What are my limitations? Not much at all really, but an old way of adapting my hunter gatherer genes to sitting still and thinking, hoping to be able to see the consequences of my actions.
That was the start of this piece but by the end of my thoughts for the time being it has turned into time traveling. Whenever I dig into my thoughts I am transported to the past, the present and the future. It is because of how I feel, what I have felt and all other influences on my life. What I have seen, what I hope for, what I don't like and mostly what I feel and think about my own life. Words are my time machine and when I step out of those other thoughts and back into the present depending on how the thoughts and feelings have been transformed into words, fast or slow makes a difference in my expansion or shrinking of time.
Changing the way I take actions is what I am writing about here. I am saving money in my prime share so that I can purchase a used, new to me vehicle that will carry me into the future. Saving money the last ten years has been harder than any time in my life until just recently. The money I was being paid has just been enough to skim along the edge of poverty, occasionally dipping down and having to put off purchasing food or medicine so that I could have enough gas to get to work. Now I am saving my hard earned tax returns and adding what I think of as extra money to my prime share on pay days which are every two weeks. I still owe my sister money she lent me, that saved me when I had my two serious medical emergencies earlier this year and my dentist for the partial dentures that I now possess, allowing me to once again chew my food the way my parents instructed me so long ago, thoroughly.
My dental insurance company said my absence of teeth was a pre-exisiting condition and they were not going to pay for the 6 artificial teeth that I now put in and take out of my mouth. Now I am paying the full amount over a thousand dollars instead of half that. I am still falling into the statistical averages of people who have encountered the side of insurance companies we who believe in single payer are fighting so hard against, the middleman waste of our money to fat cats who want to take our money without working for it. That is a small distraction, thoughts about situations that I have little control over.
So, back to saving and words to describe it. It is delayed gratification and I suspect I am doing it because I know it is the way to freedom from aspects of our society that gets in the way of my acquiring what material items I need to meet my needs and follow my dreams. When I acquire my home on wheels I will like many home owners invest money into my home which when I get it, will need materials such as insulation, windows, appliances, etc. I intend to attain these things to make my mobile home a home for me.
My dream of a mobile home is not that of a manufactured RV. My dream is of a stealth step van that I outfit with gear on the inside that will make it livable and to let it remain a work truck on the outside so that I may park around towns and country sides looking in all the world like the water department or the some other service company. I have read many ads for such a vehicle and have come across someone else who has expressed the same dream and is now living in a step van.
Ah, this is an interesting change in the blogger website, the ability to publish and then come back and up date without having to jump to other actions. I like it. I left, made breakfast, did some other chores and am back to finish some of the thoughts I was working on.
It seems I have to often resist in some way what our society has been feeding on. That is the wholesale marketing of our institutions. Marketing in my opinion is what companies do that is not quite as honest as one would want to believe. Who exactly determines what is best? Well a company selling a product expresses they have the best product. If one really wants to determine the best product or the best value for your buck one has to look further and get the opinion of Consumer Reports which does not allow themselves to be swayed by advertising. Only in this way can one get an opinion of a product that is unbiased it seems. Advertising and marketing firms are biased because they are getting their pay from the product owner and hence want to make that product successful. In order to do that they bend or stretch the truth or completely falsify what the product will do. Falsifying the truth is lying and lying is against what I was brought up on by my parents and others. The values I was taught growing up seem to have been diluted by the all mighty quest for the dollar.
This is what I rebel against. I have been growing my hair again now for almost 3 years. It will be 3 years in July, which was the last time I cut my hair nearly down to the scalp with my buzzer. July 2009 and then it was grow. Having long hair is one of the first non destructive ways I could rebel against the accepted norms when growing up. At that time my hair was touching the collar of my button shirt and it was unacceptable. Of course, I was already labeled the bad boy who wouldn't pay attention, who openly told teachers to FUCK OFF or FUCK YOU! The administrators of my schools would welcome me in a special session when I was entering middle and high school along with others to read me the laws governing behavior expectations of that institution and to make the point clear would give me and my co-conspirators free samples such as 40 whacks with the big paddle or a week of detention in the first week of high school without any evidence other than past behavior. It is no wonder I fight so against the norms of our society. So, growing my hair is a way of protesting, somewhat wearing my unwillingness to adhere to societal accepted norms. It is also somewhat of a reflection on my past happiness, that I was happier in parts of my past than I admitted later on. Of course, happiness is elusive in our society if we deem that it is acquired from material possessions or wealth from making the most money. Happiness comes from our hearts, following our hearts, at least in my case. I have found my happiness and it has not been easy. I've had tastes of happiness only to have it leave. It would always leave if I was getting my happiness from the outside. I now accept the happiness that is in my heart as being main happiness that I have been seeking. Being satisfied with myself, who I have been working on being and accepting myself unconditionally.
Just so, the end of my morning rant. Enjoy your life, pursue your dreams! Follow your heart!
That was the start of this piece but by the end of my thoughts for the time being it has turned into time traveling. Whenever I dig into my thoughts I am transported to the past, the present and the future. It is because of how I feel, what I have felt and all other influences on my life. What I have seen, what I hope for, what I don't like and mostly what I feel and think about my own life. Words are my time machine and when I step out of those other thoughts and back into the present depending on how the thoughts and feelings have been transformed into words, fast or slow makes a difference in my expansion or shrinking of time.
Changing the way I take actions is what I am writing about here. I am saving money in my prime share so that I can purchase a used, new to me vehicle that will carry me into the future. Saving money the last ten years has been harder than any time in my life until just recently. The money I was being paid has just been enough to skim along the edge of poverty, occasionally dipping down and having to put off purchasing food or medicine so that I could have enough gas to get to work. Now I am saving my hard earned tax returns and adding what I think of as extra money to my prime share on pay days which are every two weeks. I still owe my sister money she lent me, that saved me when I had my two serious medical emergencies earlier this year and my dentist for the partial dentures that I now possess, allowing me to once again chew my food the way my parents instructed me so long ago, thoroughly.
My dental insurance company said my absence of teeth was a pre-exisiting condition and they were not going to pay for the 6 artificial teeth that I now put in and take out of my mouth. Now I am paying the full amount over a thousand dollars instead of half that. I am still falling into the statistical averages of people who have encountered the side of insurance companies we who believe in single payer are fighting so hard against, the middleman waste of our money to fat cats who want to take our money without working for it. That is a small distraction, thoughts about situations that I have little control over.
So, back to saving and words to describe it. It is delayed gratification and I suspect I am doing it because I know it is the way to freedom from aspects of our society that gets in the way of my acquiring what material items I need to meet my needs and follow my dreams. When I acquire my home on wheels I will like many home owners invest money into my home which when I get it, will need materials such as insulation, windows, appliances, etc. I intend to attain these things to make my mobile home a home for me.
My dream of a mobile home is not that of a manufactured RV. My dream is of a stealth step van that I outfit with gear on the inside that will make it livable and to let it remain a work truck on the outside so that I may park around towns and country sides looking in all the world like the water department or the some other service company. I have read many ads for such a vehicle and have come across someone else who has expressed the same dream and is now living in a step van.
Ah, this is an interesting change in the blogger website, the ability to publish and then come back and up date without having to jump to other actions. I like it. I left, made breakfast, did some other chores and am back to finish some of the thoughts I was working on.
It seems I have to often resist in some way what our society has been feeding on. That is the wholesale marketing of our institutions. Marketing in my opinion is what companies do that is not quite as honest as one would want to believe. Who exactly determines what is best? Well a company selling a product expresses they have the best product. If one really wants to determine the best product or the best value for your buck one has to look further and get the opinion of Consumer Reports which does not allow themselves to be swayed by advertising. Only in this way can one get an opinion of a product that is unbiased it seems. Advertising and marketing firms are biased because they are getting their pay from the product owner and hence want to make that product successful. In order to do that they bend or stretch the truth or completely falsify what the product will do. Falsifying the truth is lying and lying is against what I was brought up on by my parents and others. The values I was taught growing up seem to have been diluted by the all mighty quest for the dollar.
This is what I rebel against. I have been growing my hair again now for almost 3 years. It will be 3 years in July, which was the last time I cut my hair nearly down to the scalp with my buzzer. July 2009 and then it was grow. Having long hair is one of the first non destructive ways I could rebel against the accepted norms when growing up. At that time my hair was touching the collar of my button shirt and it was unacceptable. Of course, I was already labeled the bad boy who wouldn't pay attention, who openly told teachers to FUCK OFF or FUCK YOU! The administrators of my schools would welcome me in a special session when I was entering middle and high school along with others to read me the laws governing behavior expectations of that institution and to make the point clear would give me and my co-conspirators free samples such as 40 whacks with the big paddle or a week of detention in the first week of high school without any evidence other than past behavior. It is no wonder I fight so against the norms of our society. So, growing my hair is a way of protesting, somewhat wearing my unwillingness to adhere to societal accepted norms. It is also somewhat of a reflection on my past happiness, that I was happier in parts of my past than I admitted later on. Of course, happiness is elusive in our society if we deem that it is acquired from material possessions or wealth from making the most money. Happiness comes from our hearts, following our hearts, at least in my case. I have found my happiness and it has not been easy. I've had tastes of happiness only to have it leave. It would always leave if I was getting my happiness from the outside. I now accept the happiness that is in my heart as being main happiness that I have been seeking. Being satisfied with myself, who I have been working on being and accepting myself unconditionally.
Just so, the end of my morning rant. Enjoy your life, pursue your dreams! Follow your heart!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
An update on where I am standing
I just want to admit that it has been one heck of a ride to this point in time. A point that is so small compared to the rest of the universe, well that is a different subject.
That operation I was told I was going to have on my right knee, not happening. Apparently, there was some error in reading my MRI and now it seems that I have been told no operation necessary. What a relief! This idea of an operation and having to move and be quite immobile for unknown length of time really had me intensely focused on emergency procedures for moving, not working, collecting social security, food stamps etc. My sisters suggested I not post all that was going on at Face book, which has pulled me out of that obsession to post all this minute details about my life.
On an aside to that, I read someone's page one day and they said they were addicted to FB. I see how that can happen. Unless we are vigilant in our processes we can find ourselves so distracted by the unimportant trying to sometimes avoid the pain that is right in front of our faces. I lead a distracted life and I still have some goals that I desire to accomplish.
So, I still intend to look for a place over in SE to back to. Most of my friends I have made in Portland live in SE.
Back to the non operation. I have managed because I have people around me who care about me. Because of them and whatever forces including my own nature I am not going to need that operation and knowing that recovery from life or body malfunctions is a process that doesn't happen over night.
Yes, it is true. I am getting very distracted because the faucet has a bad washer and I have to go to the store and eat some lunch. I have not eaten anything today because eating is what I do to give me energy for my M-F activities. The stress that is generated at my job eats up my energy.
Stress from my job is large and I only came to this realization after pulling down the veils of denial that I usually put over my eyes keeping me moving forward. At some moment in time after many drips, a pool forms and it is the recognition that I have been denying the forces that surround and shape my external world. I'm going all over the place. That is normal for me but I have discovered it about myself and can stop it such as right now! Done for today.
That operation I was told I was going to have on my right knee, not happening. Apparently, there was some error in reading my MRI and now it seems that I have been told no operation necessary. What a relief! This idea of an operation and having to move and be quite immobile for unknown length of time really had me intensely focused on emergency procedures for moving, not working, collecting social security, food stamps etc. My sisters suggested I not post all that was going on at Face book, which has pulled me out of that obsession to post all this minute details about my life.
On an aside to that, I read someone's page one day and they said they were addicted to FB. I see how that can happen. Unless we are vigilant in our processes we can find ourselves so distracted by the unimportant trying to sometimes avoid the pain that is right in front of our faces. I lead a distracted life and I still have some goals that I desire to accomplish.
So, I still intend to look for a place over in SE to back to. Most of my friends I have made in Portland live in SE.
Back to the non operation. I have managed because I have people around me who care about me. Because of them and whatever forces including my own nature I am not going to need that operation and knowing that recovery from life or body malfunctions is a process that doesn't happen over night.
Yes, it is true. I am getting very distracted because the faucet has a bad washer and I have to go to the store and eat some lunch. I have not eaten anything today because eating is what I do to give me energy for my M-F activities. The stress that is generated at my job eats up my energy.
Stress from my job is large and I only came to this realization after pulling down the veils of denial that I usually put over my eyes keeping me moving forward. At some moment in time after many drips, a pool forms and it is the recognition that I have been denying the forces that surround and shape my external world. I'm going all over the place. That is normal for me but I have discovered it about myself and can stop it such as right now! Done for today.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Age is really starting to sink in to my level of awareness
I am feeling older all the time. Not a bad thing if I remember to think young, out of the box and rebelliously while maintaining the calm reassuring gently soul that I am in social situations such as work and when I drive my own vehicle with the amateur drivers on the road. I have been driving professionally now for almost 5 years and when I am in my work vehicle I have a certain feeling of security. That sucks doesn't it? Secure feeling at work, insecure feeling not at work! What's up with that? I'll tell you. How can I be so backwards to be feeling secure at work and insecure at home or in my personal vehicle. See how it is with me, a contradiction whether it is with society or just with myself.
On the 30th of December, I slipped and fell on some stairs where I live. That seems bad enough but it wasn't the fall that got to me because I only bounced down two steps or so out of nine and on my butt. It was the extension or compression my knee that did the damage. It RIPPED the quadricep tendon off the bone below my knee and that hurt 15 on a scale of 1-10, probably the worst pain I have ever experienced. That's not all. While reclining and healing from that, I got some blood clots that traveled to my Pulmonary Artery and caused a serious loss of oxygen to my whole body causing me to collapse. That is not all of why I am feeling so old. Not only have I had two life changing medical issues in a short period of time these have cause me to file for Social Security and need to move from my basement room of 2 years. I don't like to move around much, like to stay put, but that is not what is on the burner for me.
I have to move now, because I still need the operation on my knee which will take me out of commission for a length of time that is as yet undetermined. Undetermined and not working while I heal. They say the longer I put off the operation the less likely my knee will regain all of it's function. That's a little scary in itself. The other scary part is I will have to rely on others to take care of some of my basic needs such as shopping and perhaps food preparation. Many have volunteered to help. I am grateful for my friends and fellow workers.
I have never had surgery of the nature of what is coming. When I was about 17 I was in the hospital for a rather rare and serious disease, meningoencephalitis. The pain I experienced in my head because of the expansion of my brain was pretty intense, but could be numbed down with narcotics. If they forgot to give them to me while in the hospital, I woke up the whole ward with my screams. That was pretty intense. Only after i got over it did they tell me how close I was to not leaving the hospital alive. A year later or perhaps a year earlier I had Hep ! and mono at the same time. No surgery was involved. I telling about these medical conditions because it seems what I get comes in pairs. Of course, when I was 21 or so, I cut my right arm open by accident and the muscle and the skin had to be stitched back up. I should probably remember that more of my recent medical issues have come in pairs.
For 24 years I had substance abuse problems. I have been away from all that now for nearly 26 years. That's about right. I am 62 now and started with my abuse when I was about 12. During the time of my self abuse with drugs I also severely abused myself physically. I had tantrums upwards of in my 30's. I had extremely low self esteem brought on by my ADD issues that continued unknown to me, but perhaps diagnosed and revealed to my parents when I was younger, because a family member told me the doctors wanted to give me Ritilan but my father objected. I was about 10 or 12 then and that's when my parents started offering me coffee. As far as a diagnosis I finally had one when I was 50 years old. ADD and other head trauma. Nothing has ever been simple with me. Why am I writing this? I just want to get it out of my head and I have told some people that I write here. It is easier for me to put it here than tell it over and over again. Sure it is long, but anyone could do it in different sittings just like if one were reading a book. Read some, put it down and come back.
Because of this learning challenge, I didn't get it most of the time. By getting it I mean, wasn't paying attention or paying attention to more inputs than most of my peers. There was so much noise going on in my head I had trouble focusing on what was being said by most people. I got labeled quite early in life as someone who didn't pay attention, someone who fooled around and was not honest, someone who didn't fit it, a trouble maker etc. It is easier to label someone without really trying to find out the cause. To many of us slipped through the system. For the longest period of time, I lived my label. I was not a nice person, I was not honest. I drank until I dropped or dropped someone else. I used to fight and get the fight knocked out of me. Sometimes I knocked the fight out of others. I put a person in the hospital and put myself there too. I was in and out of jail. I fought with the police, they beat me up pretty bad. I was arrested many times and it is a miracle I am not a career criminal or dead or died in prison. I was angry, but the under lying feelings were frustration, low self esteem. When I drank, I lashed out. It is to bad I couldn't just drink a little or drink and be happy or just pass out. That was not me. All that pent up anger from my upbringing was finding it's way out with a multiplier. It is part of what keeps me from picking up a drink even after 26 years of abstinence. Did I get distracted, possibly. Wasn't I talking about diseases?
In 2007 I had a kidney stone. Now I thought I was dying, the pain was severe 10 on a scale of 1-10. I didn't have a second disease or illness until 2010 when I had acute urinary retention which also was rather painful and lead me to the urologist who diagnosed me with enlarged prostate gland also known as BPH. A small walnut sized gland in men that enlarges with age in about 70% of us. Things our parents never told us about. Sounds familiar. I don't need to go into details.
Fast Forward. 2011, fall on stairs and lay around for blood clots so I can have a Pulmonay Embolism. Had that too. Got tested last week and waiting for results from Electrocardiogram with Doppler and some other testing to see if my heart has returned to normal size after the PE. Then they will quite possibly say surgery is OK to perform, but there is another thing to consider. I am taking an anti-clotting medicine and have to change to one that is faster to leave my body, stop and have surgery and then be unmobile more the most part for at least 6 weeks.
I am a survivor and have always got back up. This scares me because it goes against my very nature. I am having to work really hard at just keeping going and find a new place to live, not pursue my landlord, just get out of here.Some of my friends have reacted angrily when I tell them my landlord thinks he is off the hook for any part of my injury or loss of wages. I've had plenty of time to think about it. I filed a claim against his home owners insurance only to hear from them he had no landlord to tenant insurance and I am out of luck for help on my lost wages or medical costs. My life right now is tough. I didn't talk about filing for Social Security. This probably has kicked my ass as much as anything. It is driving home to me that I am actually an aging person. I don't think like one, have struggled most of my life trying to identify with most of my peers as being an adult. I know I am an adult now and an aging one. I know this is all slowing me down. I have had to slow down, just change everything.
I had to write this today. The last couple of months have probably been the roughest of my life. The work I am doing is probably some of the toughest, the pay the lowest for the responsibility and the stress, the people I have met although of varying ages some of the best people so far in life. I am more productive and feel more of a sense of community than for a period of time in my life. I have little pain in my knee, but feel that with the operation that will change. Our knees, our mobility don't get an injury like this. It sucks, but it is my nature to work on the positive side of it all. I have had many adventures in my life, this is just another. Not one I've chosen, but one I have been dealt. I will survive it and will continue to chase my dreams, if I could just remember what they are.
On the 30th of December, I slipped and fell on some stairs where I live. That seems bad enough but it wasn't the fall that got to me because I only bounced down two steps or so out of nine and on my butt. It was the extension or compression my knee that did the damage. It RIPPED the quadricep tendon off the bone below my knee and that hurt 15 on a scale of 1-10, probably the worst pain I have ever experienced. That's not all. While reclining and healing from that, I got some blood clots that traveled to my Pulmonary Artery and caused a serious loss of oxygen to my whole body causing me to collapse. That is not all of why I am feeling so old. Not only have I had two life changing medical issues in a short period of time these have cause me to file for Social Security and need to move from my basement room of 2 years. I don't like to move around much, like to stay put, but that is not what is on the burner for me.
I have to move now, because I still need the operation on my knee which will take me out of commission for a length of time that is as yet undetermined. Undetermined and not working while I heal. They say the longer I put off the operation the less likely my knee will regain all of it's function. That's a little scary in itself. The other scary part is I will have to rely on others to take care of some of my basic needs such as shopping and perhaps food preparation. Many have volunteered to help. I am grateful for my friends and fellow workers.
I have never had surgery of the nature of what is coming. When I was about 17 I was in the hospital for a rather rare and serious disease, meningoencephalitis. The pain I experienced in my head because of the expansion of my brain was pretty intense, but could be numbed down with narcotics. If they forgot to give them to me while in the hospital, I woke up the whole ward with my screams. That was pretty intense. Only after i got over it did they tell me how close I was to not leaving the hospital alive. A year later or perhaps a year earlier I had Hep ! and mono at the same time. No surgery was involved. I telling about these medical conditions because it seems what I get comes in pairs. Of course, when I was 21 or so, I cut my right arm open by accident and the muscle and the skin had to be stitched back up. I should probably remember that more of my recent medical issues have come in pairs.
For 24 years I had substance abuse problems. I have been away from all that now for nearly 26 years. That's about right. I am 62 now and started with my abuse when I was about 12. During the time of my self abuse with drugs I also severely abused myself physically. I had tantrums upwards of in my 30's. I had extremely low self esteem brought on by my ADD issues that continued unknown to me, but perhaps diagnosed and revealed to my parents when I was younger, because a family member told me the doctors wanted to give me Ritilan but my father objected. I was about 10 or 12 then and that's when my parents started offering me coffee. As far as a diagnosis I finally had one when I was 50 years old. ADD and other head trauma. Nothing has ever been simple with me. Why am I writing this? I just want to get it out of my head and I have told some people that I write here. It is easier for me to put it here than tell it over and over again. Sure it is long, but anyone could do it in different sittings just like if one were reading a book. Read some, put it down and come back.
Because of this learning challenge, I didn't get it most of the time. By getting it I mean, wasn't paying attention or paying attention to more inputs than most of my peers. There was so much noise going on in my head I had trouble focusing on what was being said by most people. I got labeled quite early in life as someone who didn't pay attention, someone who fooled around and was not honest, someone who didn't fit it, a trouble maker etc. It is easier to label someone without really trying to find out the cause. To many of us slipped through the system. For the longest period of time, I lived my label. I was not a nice person, I was not honest. I drank until I dropped or dropped someone else. I used to fight and get the fight knocked out of me. Sometimes I knocked the fight out of others. I put a person in the hospital and put myself there too. I was in and out of jail. I fought with the police, they beat me up pretty bad. I was arrested many times and it is a miracle I am not a career criminal or dead or died in prison. I was angry, but the under lying feelings were frustration, low self esteem. When I drank, I lashed out. It is to bad I couldn't just drink a little or drink and be happy or just pass out. That was not me. All that pent up anger from my upbringing was finding it's way out with a multiplier. It is part of what keeps me from picking up a drink even after 26 years of abstinence. Did I get distracted, possibly. Wasn't I talking about diseases?
In 2007 I had a kidney stone. Now I thought I was dying, the pain was severe 10 on a scale of 1-10. I didn't have a second disease or illness until 2010 when I had acute urinary retention which also was rather painful and lead me to the urologist who diagnosed me with enlarged prostate gland also known as BPH. A small walnut sized gland in men that enlarges with age in about 70% of us. Things our parents never told us about. Sounds familiar. I don't need to go into details.
Fast Forward. 2011, fall on stairs and lay around for blood clots so I can have a Pulmonay Embolism. Had that too. Got tested last week and waiting for results from Electrocardiogram with Doppler and some other testing to see if my heart has returned to normal size after the PE. Then they will quite possibly say surgery is OK to perform, but there is another thing to consider. I am taking an anti-clotting medicine and have to change to one that is faster to leave my body, stop and have surgery and then be unmobile more the most part for at least 6 weeks.
I am a survivor and have always got back up. This scares me because it goes against my very nature. I am having to work really hard at just keeping going and find a new place to live, not pursue my landlord, just get out of here.Some of my friends have reacted angrily when I tell them my landlord thinks he is off the hook for any part of my injury or loss of wages. I've had plenty of time to think about it. I filed a claim against his home owners insurance only to hear from them he had no landlord to tenant insurance and I am out of luck for help on my lost wages or medical costs. My life right now is tough. I didn't talk about filing for Social Security. This probably has kicked my ass as much as anything. It is driving home to me that I am actually an aging person. I don't think like one, have struggled most of my life trying to identify with most of my peers as being an adult. I know I am an adult now and an aging one. I know this is all slowing me down. I have had to slow down, just change everything.
I had to write this today. The last couple of months have probably been the roughest of my life. The work I am doing is probably some of the toughest, the pay the lowest for the responsibility and the stress, the people I have met although of varying ages some of the best people so far in life. I am more productive and feel more of a sense of community than for a period of time in my life. I have little pain in my knee, but feel that with the operation that will change. Our knees, our mobility don't get an injury like this. It sucks, but it is my nature to work on the positive side of it all. I have had many adventures in my life, this is just another. Not one I've chosen, but one I have been dealt. I will survive it and will continue to chase my dreams, if I could just remember what they are.
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