With Apologies to 1993

     What is love? If I Had a way to describe it, I would say it's what is right, and what is wrong (give me a sign). *Grin*  Love is one of the most mystical of conversations that is argued about with great passion and gusto by many (for good reason). However, this is one of those things that people seek so long, desire so bad, that there is as much chance of achieving it successfully as there is finding a perverse offshoot that has nothing in common with the concept or to never finding it all.

     When people chase and fixate on a passion, they can find ways to suit their desire to appear as moments of circumstance. Chasing skirts. Falling for anyone who pays attention. Fantasy. There are those who take any chance to to pair off, even when it causes them to change who they are and settle for what they feel they should want, as opposed to what they truly desire. Even still, some cross the line into illegal pursuits of fancy and their whims take on a much darker meaning.

     Then there are those folks who are looking for a particular set of traits that the (perfect) mate possesses. By making a specific model, these people are left wanting and let many opportunities at happiness slip by for minor variances. While not setting an idea can lead to settling for an unsuitable partner, having to fine a set of details leads to a near impossibility of finding a person with all of the attributes. For some, it appears better to be alone than to accept anything other than Prince Charming. 

"I define love thus: The will to extend one's selloff the purpose

of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth."

- M. Scott Peck

      The joys of love are many, and the thoughts of the many are of sharing life with a partner in joy and peace. As such, life (and love) gain there power from the power of possibility. It is only from keeping an open mind and self awareness that true love can be uncovered and grown in to. In defining love as happiness and a need of another, then no set of rules can prepare you for the eventuality of where love will inspire you. What you will find is that your answers will be intuitive, as opposed to logical. You will feel the arrival of your loved one, which is why often we recognize what our heart has known for some time. The heart knows what the mind eventually discovers.

      If we are just aware and accept what we sense.

Is This What Nostradamus Felt like?

      One of the driving forces of bipolar is the desire (and ability) to act from a place of pure desire in every moment. Life is always in the 'now', and the decision has no future and no past. It is an incredibly free existence, as long as your decisions have no downstream impact. However, it is easy to imagine how destructive it could be when other responsibilities (job, people, creditors, health) are negatively impacted by a spur of the moment decision. You cannot reason against the disease process, and the damage is found in the aftermath.

      However, recently I have had remote visions that have slipped into my conscience, the likes of which I ever clearly see. A pattern of events that likely would unfold from an impulse decision considered in the throes of a maniacal fit. Where I once only saw the direct moment - "if this, then that", I now have begun seeing a more lateral sequence of events. If I stay up late drinking and carousing, work tomorrow will be challenging (or I may not go in at all). If I buy this thing I don't need now, I will only have to work harder later on to compensate. 

      If I do something to make the wife uncomfortable or unhappy, I will only create unrest within myself in the long run.

      Even though logically I am always aware that actions have consequences, it is only over the past few years I have begun to craft the skill of stopping for a moment to visualize the complete solution. There are times the event is worth it (risking sleep to comfort a friend) and those it is not (closing down the bar with the kids because - I'll deal with the fallout tomorrow!). I'm not sure I would christen this 'maturity' as much as continuing to evolve as a human being and a partner. It feels great to preempt problems I only create myself.

      In action, I choose to take responsibility. In choosing not to act, I do the same. Every memory doesn't need my mark, every purchase doesn't make sense and sometimes the only right reasoning is to do nothing at all. Good things come to those who wait.... Great things come to those who wait for a self actualized goal. The choice to not act is still a choice I make, not a dictate handed down to me by circumstance. Accepting my role instead of playing victim makes all the difference in the world.

Oh, the Humanity! (Pride, Shame and the Bookends)

       I go to bed with a heavy heart tonight, after the events of this day. This was one of those days that, when you sit down to review at the end of the night, there are very powerful images and ideas sprinkled throughout the day. A time when the human condition can be defined and reviewed clearly.

     My eight year old son spent today, his birthday, in the hospital watching the specter that has become his grandmother wither away. In a classic drama trope, life and death met at the crossroads, leaving a drug addled woman to give the gift of one more smile for my son to remember her by. When all else fails us mentally in our final days, love has shown it can pull us back to the surface for one last visit, no matter how fleeting. It's a wonderfully romantic notion of love conquering all, but in the end it remains that my son will always have the memories and a personal fairy godmother to learn from, even in passing.

     In juxtaposition, I got into a tiff with the love of my life that boiled down to a battle of pride, will and a determination to be heard. On it's own, I am embarrassed - not for the emotions, but for betraying myself by wasting a single second in negativity in the limited time I have to share with my doll face. It never ceases to amaze me how human.... how PETTY..... I can become when my learned emotions of pride, selfishness, discontent rears it ugly head - a contentious Cerebus of who handed down to me by society. When framed with the reality of my sons day, I feel so tiny, a small animal fighting for a snack. Yet even this knowledge won't always be enough to curb my actions when my little pride is wounded again. Why do we do this to ourselves.... Teaching our children the ethos of self protection in place of self celebration? Must I have an ego merely to rejoice in my being on this planet? Sharing the best of all possible outcomes with my chosen one?

     I cannot do anything to go back and unlearn the habits that continue to hinder me. What I can do is try to learn new habits that will elevate me past them. It won't be easy, but not much in my life that I have gained is. I can be sure things will never be easy, I just have to feel sure they are worth it.

A cold chill in the air

A mind lost in a sea

Of darkness and absence

In a moment of clarity

A light lifts above 

The faded horizon,

A last glimpse of what was

But never will be again.

A reminder of self

Kept inward to avoid breaking

Rejoiced upon and shared

As the Archangel hovers.

We should not need to 

Be reminded

That we must not forget.

Take away the scenery 

And the self pronounced

Obligations,

In order to be alive

One must take the time

To live. 

The true sign of 

A life lived

Comes at the end,

With a death

That releases

Instead of ends.

Then, the Rage

     After days of depression comes the flip side of bipolar - the manic phases filled with irritability and a lack of patience for people's shortcomings. Not the best combination when you are working in retail. Especially in the "big city" with snobbish jerks and self righteous retards. Just to make the perfect horror show, I forgot to take my medication this morning. All the seeds were planted for a combustible combonation.
      I tried to start my day off well, listening to my music on the way into work to try and set my mood in the right way. The traffic was the same stupid people in bruises as always, but I navigated it the same as always - leaving early to allow plenty of time and less stress to arriving on time. I talked with my wife and my best friend about the (very positive) decision I had made in the past 24 hours, and they certainly helped make me feel like the darkness of depression had passed and I felt much better about myself and my choices. There were two polar opposites (see what I did there?) that were coming together to produce a day that could go any number of ways. That is what awaited me....
     When I got to work, I felt really good and the day started off well. In what would become a running theme, I had the first of a number of customers who came into the Apple store with a dark aura and a chippy attitude. The strain of my mental condition combined with these people who feel justified in being jerks to customer service agents made it very necessary to keep my emotions in constant view and take breathers when needed. All the way up until close, people came in with surly demeanors, like there was a bad moon afoot. However, with the support of my coworkers and my internal resilience, I made it through the day with my head held high and my knuckles unmarred.
     What people generally misunderstand about bipolar is the mania side of the equation. Depression is relatively easy to understand, as we all have experience with being 'blue' or 'miserable', if not worse. However, mania gets the reputation for those in a manic state buying new cars or feeling invincible; leaving many to think that mania is a 'pleasant' type of disease to have, much like having a nymphomaniac (there's that word again) for a wife. Much like the latter, there is a leering dark side to mania where it leaves the sufferer to feel highly irritable, having racing thoughts that leave you unable to concentrate, gives you a tendency to fixate constantly on something dark in your mind that tortures you incessantly and shifts decision making focus from logic to pleasure (the pleasure principle - therein explaining where the new car that can't be paid for comes from - and worse), It's hard to explain in a way to people who don't have mania how disconcerting and frustrating it is to be in a frame of mind to act out in fun for the moment that you will pay for greatly after you 'come down'. Racing thoughts seems like a good thing - thinking about fie or six things at one time - but it's not a complete thought process, it's just multiple things clouding your mind with an inability to grasp and manipulate any of them, leaving me confused and frustrated by my inability to function mentally at my best. Notice, however, that I didn't use the Hollywood standard of uncontrolled violence. Frustration and violence are different things, HOLLYWOOD.
     I made it through one of thousands of days I have spent in my life riding the wild fluctuations involved in the bipolar disease process.I have never asked pity or excuse for what I have, only understanding from those who might give me the benefit of the doubt. I have a day of rest ahead, after which I will take my medication and try and get back to the right frame of mind before work on Sunday. I can rest easy on my ability to (finally) make a mature decision and the God sent support system I have in my wife, my best friend and those who care for me and are willing to listen to my maniacal mumblings until I can finally figure it our or here it for myself. I'm getting better......

The Fog is Inside Today

     Even though I have gotten a lot better, today was a rude reminder that I am still a diseased human being. My mind set forth on self loathing and contempt, there was nothing to do but just keep moving and hope it didn't grip my faculties for too long at any point. With all of the personal growth I feel I have shown in the past few weeks, it only takes a chemical flare up to send me back to the fractured mind I have known in different variations my whole life. History is spotted with great men who suffered and ultimately overcame. Let's not kid ourselves, I have no greatness within me. I suffer only to crawl forward in hopes of finally overcoming the Judas within my head.

     One thing I thought about all day is how much those around me tell me what a great person I am, how much I have to offer society as a whole, how much I just don't see it.  On days like today, it goes another level and I don't even believe I'm as good of a person as I believe that I am. I feel worthless, flawed, fraudulent and irrelevant. I wish I could be a better person for all of those around me, stronger and able to offer more to their lives. A laugh is fine, but it doesn't make up for all my shortcomings.

      It has become readily apparent to me however that I have a need for caring and affection and a hug every day. I am not depressed that my wife is gone, but her presence is the panacea that calms the demons when they start their chaotic chorus to pit my heart and mind against me. I always felt like the distraction of people's company made me forget, but I can readily admit that I need to be cared for, to add to my daily peace and to give me something more than any chemical can. However, I am strong and I will attempt to climb from bed tomorrow and leave this malaise in the mirror.

      I am self aware, however. I will never be great looking, no matter how much weight I lose. I will never be a 'hard worker' in the grand vein of millionaires. I don't have the most responsible demeanor. I don't have the best jokes or the greatest personality. I have a heart and a whole bunch of average to offer those I care for. Is that enough? It's not mine to say. That's up to those who surround me and save me every day. I just have to keep moving and allow life to form begins me.....

Legends, Icons, People

     The world lost two great personalities in a matter of weeks, and I wanted to take a moment to provide my own memorial to these fallen warriors. I am a mark, and I am proud of that fact. In a world cloaked in stories and looked down upon even in current society, these men built careers and entertained people to a level where there names became world renowned and known to those passive fans that make up a large portion of wrestling's fan base, especially in a time where Pro Wrestling was still trying to pass itself off as legitimate, and people were emotionally invested in the doings of the hero and villains that graced the ring. In the past month we have lost one of each - "American Dream" Dusty Rhodes and "Rowdy" Roddy Piper.

       From my beginnings in the 1980's, when I obtained the pro wrestling bug, I was always fascinated by the guys who cut a great "promo", the strong talkers who could speak in a way that drew the audience in with emotions and intelligence beyond the standard "I'm going to whup your booty". Dusty was the emotional center of the wrestling landscape - a man who was "the common man" who embodied the feelings and desires of every fan in the crowd. They could relate to his words, they could relate to his physique and the fans could always life vicariously through his accomplishments. "The son of a plumber" became the saint of the middle class. Oh, how he could talk - telling stories of "Hard Times" and "Dining with Kings and Queens" - made the fans at home feel that he was the guy sitting next to them at the bar. An emotional connection with the fans for a man that never turned away from being the everyman.

     Roddy Piper was more bombastic, more intelligent and he was able to utilize his intellect to stimulate the emotions that made him the most hated man in the 1980's, and one of the most beloved throughout the next decade. His technique never changed - always a mix of mischief and malice - only his choice of opponent differed. His words inspired the emotions he sought from the crowd, and his maniacal energy created a man that - face or heel - always drew the fans attention to him and his endeavors. The "Rowdy Scot" always came to fight, and ultimately to entertain.

      Both of these men gave decades to the sport they loved, each incurring a laundry list of injuries and surgeries throughout their career. Rowdy Roddy ultimately required enough surgeries on his hip that he became practically immobile later in his career. Big Dust was never an adonis of any sort, but he always had the stamina and movement to go all night, and bleed buckets. The lines that shown on his scarred forehead were telling signs of the many times he "gigged" (cut his forehead with a blade) throughout his illustrious career - a testament to the bodily sacrifice he was willing to give to the people he stood for time after time. These are the reasons wrestlers are always offended with the viability of there craft is question - the result is predetermined but the injury and dangers are very real, and worthy of the people's respect. (John Stossel - hello!)

      Many days spent on the road and hotels of America were a sacrifice they were willing to give to be the athletes they had chosen to become. When studying the hierarchy of wrestling and how these men climb the ranks, there are many instances of courage and determination when traveling the independent scene for no money and experience to finally starting to establish a name. Not only are these athletes on par with any of the organized sports leagues, they have a more devastating annual demand that doesn't allow for healing and rest.

      I digress. These men were icons of the sport of pro wrestling, and they were people who dealt with all the same trials and tribulations of us all while living on the road and giving the fans and the business their bodies and souls. Unlike their peers who get the press for dying young, they made it to a point in life where they were past their career, but the strain of that career probably still them from us too young. Theirs were personalities that, within the brotherhood of the squared circle, will be deeply missed for their courage, their history and the respect they carried. Among the masses, their loss reminds us of so many great moments where they took us an emotional voyage that ended in our 'coronation' in their success and leaves us remembering a different time for us all. So long gentlemen - thank you for a lifetime of wonder and empowerment.

What Hath We Wrought?

     Ours has become a society of self righteous indignation at any mention of civility or sense, it would seem. The loud minorities lift up their flag of the disenfranchised and lash out at every perceived slight. Manners, tradition and intent be damned; if they see fit to impose their will on others (ironically, this is usually done when THEY feel put upon), the world is to sit up and respect their wishes!

      There is a current firestorm around an article that proclaimed that a woman should be skinny to wear a crop top. Logically, a woman would want to show her best assets, and having her belly pop out from under a short shirt seems counter intuitive, at the very least. For the uninitiated, the shirt in question leaves a few inches between the bottom of the shirt and the jeans, exposing the belly button. So, large women everywhere took to Twitter to show they too could wear the shirt in question! Damn society for the cruelty of shirts only for skinny women! You know what? All they did was succeed in looking like bitter harpies in the matter. Just because it is possible doesn't make it reasonable.

      Then you have the 'great' legislation passed in South Carolina over the confederate flag. A bunch of politicians vowed to controversy and made a decision FOR their constituents that the flag belonged on state grounds no longer. Why? Because a psychopath had it in his Facebook photos. However, when ANOTHER Islamic radical attacks our military on home soil, where are the cries to corral the 'jihadists'? Somehow, that is given a passing glance because..... Why?? Also, why wasn't this change voted on by the VOTERS of the state to determine?

     Even here at home, a group of construction workers who work for s construction firm are protesting the CLIENT of the firm (with a much bigger name) to make the construction contractor pay its workers differently. How does THAT work? Everyone is a victim in this capitalist enterprise - except for the people whose ideas/ companies are being besmirched in public opinion. There are many more examples as foolish and irresponsible, but in the end, none of it matters. We have become a nation of victims who preach against injustice by seeking to criminalize everyone else.

      And it SUCKS.