Flags, Downtown. I am feeling a bit more back in the saddle. I have explained to my online suitor that I am not available for romance, and he seemed to get it a bit more, even though he still wants to 'see how it goes.' I said that I am not available to anyone, but I welcome online friends. It was just weird because there are people I have known for years who don't know that I have schizophrenia, family members even, and to talk about it with someone I don't know, who doesn't seem to have my best interests in mind, is unsettling. And I also think, here is a father with a great job, fancy car, owns his home and he's totally nuts! I, for one, am not even able to get a job at Walmart or Target or a bookstore, and I tried, and I am more sane than he is. It's not that I undervalue myself, I applied for photography jobs and newspaper jobs around here for eight years, both arenas in which I have had considerable success. In eight years of scouring for jobs every single day, all day, I had four interviews, during which I was hallucinating, and no offers. I went to university, got a merit scholarship, graduated with honors, I have lived in London, where I worked for a national newspaper, I won an MTV award, and it's really hard to find interest if you are not in a city and can really go for it. At Vocational Rehabilitation, they told me my resume was not competitive because I didn't have any certificates. So to hell with my Bachelor's degree I guess. Sometimes I think it's my age, and then I am also aware of years of absence from any work because of schizophrenia. There is just not a friendly, understanding situation here, where I can say I just would like a job for a couple of days a week because I have schizophrenia. My resumé or application form was always one of at least two hundred others. I haven't been looking for work for three years, since I got my Disability, to which I finally gave in. It's just that compared to this nutcase who has been writing to me I am more stable, have better conduct and show more comprehension. It just makes me wonder how I went from being happily married, earning $200,000 a year, having lots of in real life friends, to what I have now. I am not unhappy, but I think of Spinal Tap - "too MUCH fucking perspective".
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Impatiens and Coleus, Downtown. I have been feeling unsettled for a couple of days now. It is because I am opening myself up to strangers on the internet, which normally I never do. I'm talking about the guys who try and friend me for leading to romance. I don't want to be rude to them and I do welcome new friends, but with one guy I just find myself trying to justify my living situation, which I don't want to change. He is slow to pick up on outright statements that I am not looking for romance, so I spell it out - schizophrenia. Still, he wants to see how it goes. I am just not cut out for internet dating, which is why I don't pursue it. I think it is really weird to be presented with a list of qualities sought, and a rundown of what he has to offer. It's so different to the way I am, like how I just fell in love with my husband at first sight - he was a friend of a friend. There was no "resume" to size up, no tango, just a really nice feeling from seeing his face, which was gentle and kind. I just have never been curious as to what kind of car people drive and I am not a fan of slow dancing romance. I like laughing all day long while we do ordinary things. That's what my marriage was like. It was really fun, not heavy at all. I know I'll never find that again, or at least I'm pretty sure, so I have come to a kind of peace about it. I remember it fondly and sometimes I smile to myself, and that's what I do. I can't help it if this internet guy drives a mercedes, I just don't fit that bill. It's really hard to have nothing left to show for a wonderful marriage and exciting career, but that's where I am. I have my memories, a 20 year old car, and a camera, and I don't want more. I think it would be really hard to have to think about this guy's needs. He asked "how do you treat your man?" I'm like not even from the same planet on that one. And it was after I had said twice that I was not looking for a partner. Maybe I've just been out of it for a while, but this guy is really making me feel uncomfortable. I kind of don't know what to expect when I log on. I was used to just a cup of tea, a cigarette, and my computer. Now I am presented with a full-on overture and it's kind of ruining the peace. I'll see how it goes. I just am feeling a little on the defensive, as if I and my idea of living out my days in this house with my brother and my memories is somehow daft, incomprehensible, needs revision. But left to experience my own day, it is really quite good what I had settled into. Sure I miss having someone to share with, that's definitely a part of my situation as I choose to live it. But I can't just latch on to some guy. That's not who I am. I left my husband because of my illness. Not because I wanted someone new. I am still adjusting and evolving in the cradle of that decision. I don't want to 'grow up too fast' by trying to make a life with someone just for the sake of not being alone. I like being alone, which is handy, since I am alone a lot. It gives me my thoughts to myself, lends itself to stability. I don't know why I decided to friend this guy. Maybe it's karma for unfriending my friend a couple of weeks ago, I don't know.
Fountain, Downtown. I like this little fountain, it freezes in the winter. I am doing fine so far on the Latuda. I haven't had an episode since August. This is good news. Episodes are disruptive and disturbing. I hope the peace lasts. The only bad thing happening is that for a week my sleep has been off. I am back to waking up early and needing naps. This I hate, it ruins the flow of the day. I thought it was the Haldol that made me do that, but since I am not on it anymore, it can't be that. I think it happened because I had to wake up early for a doctor's appointment a week ago. I have been off ever since. I am hoping I will settle back in to my regular pattern soon. It's annoying as it is because I wake up in the middle of the night, too, unable to sleep. I have decided this week that I will try and go to the gym anyway, in spite of the hated naps. I took last week off from the gym thinking if I just indulged my new sleep pattern, it would go away. No such luck. But I feel refreshed from the rest, so maybe my workouts will be a little livelier.
I have had a couple of would-be suitors on Facebook. They seem like nice guys, both widowers with sons, age 6, and both in the petroleum industry. I must be on a list or something. Both European. They are attractive and, if it were to work out, I would probably be quite happy. I like what they have to offer. But, when I get this kind of interest, I explain that I have schizophrenia and that I live with my brother who has schizophrenia, and that I am not looking for romance. I'm not. I have worked very hard to reach some stability and a part of that is the focus I have put on learning to live with my brother here, where we are safe and financially sound. I am, in a sense, married to this house and a future with my brother, who needs someone around as he has refused any medication. It's not what I would have planned, but I am very very glad to have a nice place to live - it's paid for, and all I have to do is stay relatively sane to keep it for as long as I live. It's not exciting, it's not the result of my own hard work and choices, it's a gift from my parents to both of us and I have accepted it. And there is also the story I don't offer, which is that medication has completely killed my sex drive. This doesn't upset me. I like being less complicated in that way. If someone had told me 17 years ago, when my schizophrenia started, that this would be my future, I would have been completely freaked out. But the disease has been relentless, gruelling, and I am glad to be at a place now where all I have to do is throw my food in the microwave and generally take care of myself. I was a very active, happy, sane person with a degree of success. But now, I feel good just to have made it another day without a trip to the hospital. There are days when I wish I was filming something interesting, and I think about setting up a vimeo account with my work on it, just in case I get some interest, and maybe some day when I have been doing well for a while, I will. But I will be living here, enjoying stability with my brother for as far as I can see. I buy one lottery ticket per draw, and I sometimes dream of using the money to move back to Los Angeles, with my brother, and live out my days with my camera. But I do have ties here, which I am loathe to break. I have a few local friends - I rarely see them, but maybe when they retire I can see them more. I have my doctors, who I depend on - I am in the "system" here. I know I can't live where my mom lives because I won't find the doctors I need there. I could find them in Los Angeles, but it wouldn't be the same as living a couple miles from my old school, and seeing all the people who work at McDonald's, where I buy my diet sodas every day. It's like, this place is home now. I woke up someplace good. Firewood for sale. I'm wearing a light sweater in the mornings but taking it off in the afternoons. I am getting used to the idea of a change in seasons, begrudgingly albeit. Every spring, we have a family of birds move into the fireplace. Last winter, with my birthday money, I hired a chimney sweep to clean the fireplace out and I ordered some wood and we enjoyed a few fires, even though the wood was a bit green. This year, the birds were here again, but I don't think I will have the chimney sweep back. It's early days, but I am just not in the mood for a fire. My dad, for some reason, is against putting a chimney cap on. He thinks I should just smoke the birds out every spring with a very small fire. I just can't do that. I am too soft I guess, not pioneer enough. I guess I also feel a bit special because they chose our fireplace. For the past two summers, a chick has made its way to the house. This year said chick was not well and was being rejected. I took it outside and left it, and the next day it was gone - I think I mentioned that in my blog already.
I just sympathise. I would be homeless too if it weren't for my parents - same with my brother - although maybe he's more resourceful than I am. My Dad has been a rock of security, picking me up from hospitals all over the place after I wandered, with no money and no plan. In DC, I actually threw my keys in a garbage can and slept overnight in the dressing room of the Kennedy Center, where there was a shower. The next day, I was discovered and they had me removed to a hospital. I am lucky. I have spent the past five years concentrating on having a home. I just want to be sane enough to keep being able to care for the house and myself and my brother after my parents are gone. It's nervewracking to think of it. All it would take is one accident, or a major repair we can't afford, and we could be displaced. I just get nervous about it. But I am not as terrified as I was on Haldol. Latuda has given me a feeling of confidence and can-do. And my brother will have a legal guardian after my Dad dies, who hopefully will help me think my way out of any possible crisis. As a student in Fine Art, I used to think I could totally rely on myself, as long as I had a hammer and a screwdriver. I felt empowered. But now that I have lost my mind, I am not so practical. I can barely change a lightbulb. I haven't worked with my hands in years and my brain is fragmented and delicate, so I have to really work my courage up to handle the most basic things. Like with the lightbulb, I always thank God I have a lightbulb, and a light to change at all. Then I have to overcome my fear of heights and screw it in. So far, no accidents, but I am accustomed to expecting trouble, and it's hard to shake that off and relax. The medicine has stiffened my muscles considerably, so I am no longer confident in my stride. It's like aging really fast, I think. I was always into ballet and yoga and bikes and hiking, but I am now down to thirty minutes on the treadmill and some weights. I have to use my whole brain now, I'm not on autopilot anymore. I am working on it though. The modest workout is helping, and the stiffness goes away sometimes for a few days. I just have to hold my nerve and keep going. Krispy Kreme, downtown. I feel a bit like I have fallen off a cliff and am waiting to land since I finished the Haldol a couple of weeks ago. I don't feel as anchored. But I am not putting myself in harm's way, which I look out for. If you read my previous post you would know that I unfriended someone last week. I don't know why, but I just really feel I did the right thing. This person was a fellow schizophrenic, friendly, who enjoyed chatting kind of all day long. Not continuously, just drifting in and out. I enjoyed getting to know her, but I noticed more than once that she thought she was more intelligent than everyone she knows. I took it to be just youthful arrogance, even though she's forty-four. I kind of knew it would eventually be my turn for a slap in the face. Still, when it happened, it wasn't that it was particularly awful, it was just common and generally rude. I just instinctively felt it was the end. I had offered some good support in the past, for which she had thanked me. I could have gone on dealing with her sweeping generalizations and maudlin attitude toward loneliness, but I just thought I wanted to do something else with my day. I felt I had already been through enough - she doesn't like Jewish people or Indians, because they have cheated her she claims. I just do not ever think this way and trying to carefully open her mind up a little was a lot of hard work, not unlike clearing a mine field. I just stopped enjoying getting to know her. I felt she was treating me like a sounding board - "all men are selfish", poetry is more beautiful if you're in pain, all that - I just felt like a toy in her nursery. I felt like I was the audience. So anyway, I put an end to it, knowing that it would possibly hurt her feelings, but also to say that if you abuse, you lose. I wish her the best with her poetry and other projects. But I'm done.
Unfriending someone is unpleasant business and not to be taken lightly. But when someone tells you that they think you are too stupid to understand, it reveals a lack of mutual respect. It is juvenile and rude. I gave this 44 year old ten months daily of my time and attention. My time is all I have to offer. My facebook will be more quiet for a while, but I do have dear friends and family who really care for me. I am reminded that I am in recovery too, and being insulted is not what I deserve. I don't get paid to babysit conflicted brats who don't appreciate me. So listen to Nickelback and curse my name. Or grow up. Just not on my time.
Reusable Grocery Bag. I bought five of these bags, which was part of a deal to provide food for those in need, but they are so well balanced and designed that I only use one, usually. I really like them. They are much easier to manage than plastic carriers, which swing and dangle when you carry them. It's the nicest reusable bag I have come across, but not the first. I had larger, more unwieldy ones in London 25 years ago and Sainsbury's offered two pennies off the bill for each bag. My store here is finally catching on. It also has started selling ready made couscous and tabouleh salads, and pasta salads and so on. Finally I can comfortably be a vegetarian in my town, like in Los Angeles. It has taken 20 years, but they are improving. The only thing missing - and it's just because it's popular and sold out - was my favorite Ben and Jerry's Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch ice cream, which I really look forward to. I can check back later in the week for that.
It has been a kind of off week for me mood wise and I am wondering if it's because I finished the Haldol last weekend. I don't know. I have been at kind of a loose end since I finished my Photoshop lessons - I didn't plan another project to follow it. I do have quite a lot of reading to do, which, for some reason, I am having trouble settling down to do. I am still just excited about the camera and the fun to do with that, I think. I spent three days last week looking into stables because I wanted to try horses for a subject, but the stables I know and love had closed down due to tornado damage four years ago and all the other stables around are kind of fancy and less approachable by comparison. My messages weren't returned. All is not lost though, I am thinking of visiting my mother, in late October, and there are farms there that are friendly and known to my family, so I am going to try that. I don't have any ideas of what I want, other than observing simply. There are horse photographs that I admire very much, and what I really want to know is how much detail (horse hair) my camera can pick up. And if I like the pictures, I might try split tone in Photoshop, which was what I mainly bought it for. Anyway, I am flying solo on Latuda and Wellbutrin now and I like the idea of antidepressants generally. I am quite stiff in my muscles, I have noticed, which has me a little disappointed, but I am soldiering on with my exercises regardless. I see my psychiatrist for the last time this week, she is moving back to New York City in October. Ordinarily I would understand moving like that, but I have come to really appreciate a paid-for house, a paid-for car and the short, smooth traffic trips to places around town that are not too far away. With my schizophrenia, music and film - formerly my life's blood - are out of the question as they cause episodes. I would like a museum and other sights and so on that exciting cities offer, but I don't want to live there. I haven't any complaints about it, I loved London and Los Angeles, but, with schizophrenia, I just really appreciate the simplicity and security of my present location. It has taken some time to adjust, but I have finally got a home and I don't want to leave it. It's nice though as, for as long as it has lasted, I had a genuine NYC psychiatrist. And she is the best I have ever had, too. Brandt Lane 2015. This is the last of my Brandt Lane photographs for the year. We were married on September 3, 1988. I found this little sign in the Brandt Lane garden and I always perk up when I see 1988 around the place. I was ecstatically happy to be with Justin. We were very happy together and I ended it when the schizophrenia happened. I just didn't want to be a drag and I was pretty distressed. I felt I could handle things better if I withdrew and went back to live with my parents. It's not the way I wanted things to go, but I think it has worked out well for both of us. After many years of turmoil, I have accepted my decisions and am living a peaceful, happy life for the most part. With thought, it might be nice for me to check on the garden seasonally throughout the coming year. As a gardener myself, I am good at window boxes as long as I have Miraclegro, which I wholeheartedly recommend to everyone for a profusion of blooms. I would love to do more gardening at my own house, but my parents kind of planned it out like a golf course, my mother likes Augusta National. So it's all azaleas and rhododendrons and camellias. Therefore, I can't really see a riot of sunflowers fitting in any where. Which is kind of fine anyway because with my meds I am sensitive to sunlight. Although I have noticed that, since switching to Latuda, the brown spots on my face have faded quite a bit, which is nice. It was weird when they started to appear, but somewhere, I read that they are a a side effect of Haldol. My doctor wasn't alarmed anyway. Good thing I am not vain. I kind of welcome aging. I have loved old people since I was a child and it's nice to be one. My mom says I'm young, but I do have an AARP card now. They actually sent it to me when I was 48. Then I wasn't ready. But 51 feels like ready. I am just kind of too budget conscious to actually fork out the $16 membership fee. I think if I hunt for things I can use it for, I will still spend more money than usual. And $16 is a trip to get sushi for a special treat.
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