My Thoughts at the End of the Blogging Day…

Coca-Cola Anonymous…

I just called dad and left a message.  This is going to be interesting for tonight plus what happened below.  I asked for him to bring me home three Coca-Colas similar to what mom bought me today.  I am just flat out obsessed.  It probably wouldn’t be a big deal if I could just buy them, but I can’t, and it makes me want them all the more.  I had six diet Cokes this morning at seven.  Three 20oz Coca-Colas around three.  And now I am hoping to get more.  Dad is not as easy to finagle as mom, though.  I probably won’t get tonight’s.  He will probably just forget as he normally does after a busy day of work. 

Update…

“I love you, son,” dad just told me on the phone. “I am bringing you three Cokes.  You want regular or diet?”

“Diet,” I said sheepishly.

“No, you need regular,” dad said changing his mind. “You need to gain more weight.”

YEE HAW! MY OBSESSION HAS BEEN FULFILLED!

A Meal for Mrs. Florene…

Helen cooked for an army today.  I got mom to fix me an extra plate for Mrs. Florene.  I just drove over there awhile ago and she was already cooking liver and onions for supper.  She was glad to get the plate of food, though, and said she would have it for lunch tomorrow.  I didn’t stay but just a minute.  I mainly just wanted to see if she was okay.  She kind of berated me for not coming to breakfast this morning, though.  I just can’t seem to get it all together in the mornings and to be honest, I feel uncomfortable without George there.   I know I am being silly.  It is just that social anxiety stuff I deal with on a daily basis.   I told her I would be there in the morning and she made me promise.  She said we would have creamed tuna on toast which will be a treat for me.  My grandmother would always fix that when I was a child and she said I would dance excitedly around the kitchen table like little Indians while it cooked on the stove. 

Glasses for my Birthday?

I called mom a this afternoon and told her I would just get glasses for my birthday present from dad.

“Surely, you don’t want glasses for your birthday,” mom replied as one of my chief advocates. “I thought you wanted a grocery store shopping spree from your daddy and a meal out for your birthday.  You’re getting that iTunes gift card from me.”

I waffled back and forth.

“Talk to dad tonight and see what he says,” I told my mother. “I was just trying to save y’all some money because I was getting new glasses anyway.”

“I want you be able to buy some steaks, lots of beef jerky for Maggie, and Cheeze-its, and all the things you normally can’t afford with your grocery money on your budget,” mom told me and it was really swaying my mind.

“Ummm,  ribeyes,” I said wantonly. 

Mom laughed.

“Get you some steaks for the freezer and let your daddy pay for it,” mom finally told me. “I will pay for the glasses and the eye exam.  You are two years overdue for your exam and it is worrying me.”

Steaks it is it seems.  I would love to have a grocery store shopping spree.  It has been on my mind for days now.  I can’t wait to grill out and enjoy some of this fantastically beautiful weather we are having.   My neighbor was grilling hamburgers the other day and the smell just about drove me crazy. 

This is Just Typical for my Luck…

I was feeding Lucky tonight over at Joyce’s carport.  I put a can of cat food down and Lucky ran over to eat staying ever wary of me as usual.  Well, this gruff looking kinsfolk man of Joyce’s has been working on the house.    He has been tearing out the old pine paneling and putting up drywall.   When I was feeding Lucky, I noticed he had left a very large cooler on the carport and I was being nosey.  It was just full of Budweiser when I looked in.  One of my favorite upscale beers when I could afford it.  IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY!  I needed a meeting tonight, but my social anxieties are really acting up with it being so close to my injection I think.   I am going to tell dad tonight and he will put the cooler in his car and carry it home and call Joyce’s sister and tell her to tell the man that his beer is safe.  He will do almost anything to keep me from drinking I hope.  I shouldn’t be so easily swayed by such things, but I am obsessing something fierce and there must have been over a case of beer in there on ice.  The man wouldn’t miss a few or twenty I keep thinking.  

Knock, Knock…

Imagine you’re paranoid and filled with nerve wracking anxiety.  Your only weapon against this is two little pills that are increasingly hard to obtain because all your loved ones feel they are addictive and mind altering.   On top of this, you keep hearing what sounds like car doors shutting.  You run to the bedroom window and look out.  Nothing is there.  It happens again.  It begins to happen at what seems like increasing intervals.   Your social anxieties are piqued.  You don’t want visitors – not feeling like this.  You look out your other bedroom window at your neighbor’s house.  Nothing.  You sit back down to smoke and read.  The smoking helps.  It calms you and is comforting.   You hear it again though.  The car doors.  You cringe.  The anxiety begins to mount again.   You call your stern father just increasing the anxiety at the thought of bothering him at work, but you have no other recourse.  “You take two clonazepam at night and that is enough,” he says almost heartlessly and hangs up.   You smoke more and more and begin to pace the floor.  You feel better.  Nervous energy is being released.   Your favorite radio show is now playing on the radio.  There is talk of the cosmos and physics.  You begin to think you understand the fabric of time.  There is a giddy, tantalizing feeling as you pace faster.   Your legs balk, but you continue on.  You walked all day yesterday, but that doesn’t stop you.   Your dog watches on like you are crazy.  You start to feel better mile after mile.   The anxiety melts away as you grow exhausted.   You continue to walk anyway. It seems to be the only way to stay sane.  Thus is my reality this morning and for many mornings for the past few weeks.  

My Thoughts at the End of the Day…

The Defeated Man…

Mom ate at Rodger’s tonight and then brought Maggie and I a barbeque plate – a welcomed surprise for a Thursday night.  We were sitting in my den when mom asked, “What’s wrong with you?  You’ve seemed off for the past few days.”

“Oh, I’ve just had a tough few days that have made me question everything and anything.  I am really struggling with my obsessive compulsiveness.  The Luvox has quit working I fear,” I replied.  “I called dad today and told him I was willing to move into that home for the mentally disabled where Jeffrey lives. I don’t want to always be a burden on ya’ll.”

“It’s your father’s fault you are a burden on us and not yours,” mom told me, her honesty and lucidity surprising me. “If he would just let you have money again then you wouldn’t be so reliant on me for everything.”

“You and I both know he will never, ever give me money again for as long as he is my representative payee,” I replied glumly.

“I know,” mom said, looking deep in thought. “He handles all my money as well.”

“I know why you can’t go live in that home!” mom then exclaimed almost sounding excited.

I looked up smiling.

“Your father would give Maggie away and you can’t smoke in it!  It would be like living in a mental hospital!”

I laughed. She was so right. 

“So no more talk of going to live in mental institutions,” mom said as she got up to leave. “I would miss you more than anything.  I enjoy getting your groceries and giving you your Cokes every night.  Don’t think you are a burden on me.”

Mom gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.  I felt so much better.  Mom and I never got along when I was growing up – always at arms with each other over something.  It is nice to have the relationship we have these days.  

Thoughts for the Day…

Binge, not Purge…

My obsessive compulsive addictive behavior is in full force these past few days.  If I can only just weather the storm I keep telling myself, this, too, shall pass and it most likely does.  I just have to let it run it’s course and hope for the best in damage control. 

Last night, I was sitting in front of this computer reading Wikipedia about the origin of dogs when I had a strong craving and compulsion  for candy.  Mom had bought me two bags of Snickers and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Wednesday on grocery day.  Well, I ate both big bags of candy at one sitting.  Usually, this would be followed by a purging session, but I made myself keep it down.  I had one hell of a sugar rush after about thirty minutes.  It was quite a victory for me to not have purged when every fiber of my being was screaming to get it out – you’re going to get fat again.

I should have seen all this coming with my obsessive compulsive over-the-top pacing of the floor.   It was a sure sign that my OCD was acting up.  Why can’t I get obsessive about health? Or jogging? Or just something healthy or good for me?  I guess too much of anything is a bad thing.  It is just characteristic of my all or nothing nature that has so plagued me since I was a very small child.  I can’t seem to grasp the concept of moderation in anything.  

Secrets Best Kept…

I haven’t told a soul except for my blog readers about my little drinking session the other morning.  Especially not George.  I worried it would trigger him to drinking.  I am a terrible liar, though, and can’t make eye contact when I lie and will cross my arms in a defensive posture.  It is a sure sign and giveaway, and I hope nobody asks me if I have drank lately as I will blurt it out in a confessional. 

Email…

It is probably going to take an hour to download all my email when I finally check it.  I’ve had the worst paranoia I have ever experienced regarding email lately.  I am literally scared to death of what I might read.  It’s irrational and I know it, but I can’t help it.  I have to do what makes me feel comfortable. 

My Thoughts for the End of the Day…

I Fell Off the Wagon and I Fell Hard…

Mom and dad have three refrigerators in the basement.  One is for a delightfully varied mix of diet Sodas.  One is for food.  And one seems to be for wine as all their friends bring a bottle of wine when they visit.  In the third fridge has been two very conspicuously large bottles of expensive wine with a red bow tied to each.  A vestige from Christmas.  They have been calling my name.

Well, Helen called me this morning after I had gotten home from my injection for my schizophrenia.

“Baby, come have some French toast and bacon,” she said. “Your mommas already eating.”

I was on auto-pilot from that point on it seems.  It was all a blur.  I ate breakfast.  Mom went to bed.  Helen was vacuuming the den as I went downstairs and put those two large bottles of wine in my car. 

I got home and didn’t have a corkscrew.  Corks have never stopped an alcoholic on a mission.  George would call this “nigga rigging”.  I used a screw, screwdriver and a pair of pliers to get the corks out.  I then sat on the floor in my computer room, drinking copious amounts of wine until I was drunk.  There went four straight years of sobriety in an instant.   One short instant in four years of restraint. 

On the bright side, I went to bed about lunch and slept like I have never slept before.  I woke up at 7pm tonight wondering what day of the week it was much like mom often does.  I wish I had something profound to say, but I will say this, tomorrow is another day and I am not going to wallow in self pity over my indulgence.  I will begin again and tomorrow will be day one in a new string of sobriety.   

Thoughts for the Day…

Snow?  I will believe when I can see it out my window…

I’ve been hearing it for days now.  It is going to snow.  I have become jaded and disillusioned with our local and national weather outfits.  I’ve done a complete 180 in regards to my passion for the weather.  I barely even check the radar anymore.   My hopes have been dashed once too many by the National Weather Service.  Well, I got up early this morning and looked at my weather station in the den.  The temperature was 44 degrees.  Methinks it is not going to snow.  C’est la vie.  At least I didn’t get all excited this time and not sleep.

Another Day of Making Furrows…

The pacing started again this morning at 2 am.  I got up, took a drink of orange drink, smoked my first cigarette of the day, and started walking.  As I walk, I daydream and smoke, and it really passes the time.  I will look at the clock on my stove and thirty minutes have passed in what seemed like an instant.   It is almost like a time warp – a comforting escape.

Thoughts at the End of the Day…

Wearing Furrows in my Hardwood Floors…

I have paced and paced today.  I have paced for hours.  My legs feel like Jell-O and are extremely sore from all the pacing.  I know rationally that is not normal to constantly walk in circles around the inside of my house, but I can’t seem to communicate this to the obsessive compulsive component of my brain.  Late this evening, I finally collapsed in the world’s most comfortable computer chair to write and relax as I drank the only two diet Cokes I had on hand.  The urge is still there though.  I want to pace until dad gets here then I will take my medications and go to bed.  Luvox don’t let me down tonight!

Shaky Hands Make for Spilt Pills…

“I can’t seem to get the pills out of the bottle,” mom said tonight, her hands shaking violently.

“What brought this on?” I asked, worried.

I had driven over to get my six diet Cokes early and some aspirin and Tylenol.  It was supposed to rain all night after midnight.  I didn’t want to drive in the rain at 3 am in the morning – my usual time to get my drinks. 

“I tried to walk tonight,” mom replied. “Your father has been getting on to me about my weight.”

Mom takes the anti-psychotic Zyprexa – the proverbial coin with two sides.  It makes you effectively saner, but also makes you fat and diabetic.  All these anti-psychotics seem to have severe side effects.  Mine is that my Risperdal makes me asexual.

Mom was sitting in her huge bathroom in a chair and I followed her into her bedroom as she took three aprozolam.  

“I will feel better in about thirty minutes,” she said, lying down on the bed. “Lock the back door.  And don’t get the Cokes in the hall! They’re for tomorrow!”

I smiled and chuckled to myself.  As bad as mom felt, she was still handling those diet Cokes with that Nazi-like tenacity she is well known for.   Six Cokes and six cokes only is all I’m going to get a day if it weren’t for George. 

Thoughts for the Day…

My Motivator is Broken…

I only have one complaint about my life these days and it is a lack of motivation – this sense of apathy.  I made myself out an elaborate schedule to help remedy this problem, but the schedule didn’t last long.  It was too constraining and didn’t account for anomalies such as George coming over or dad being early at night, or even just a night without sleep and I would have to sleep in the day.   These days, I am perfectly content to lay on the bed for hours and listen to old Coast to Coast AM radio shows.  I feel like I am wasting my time and this bugs me.  I’ve got so many things that need doing around the house such as vacuuming as Maggie tracks in junk constantly through the dog door.  I’ve got George’s carburetor to rebuild.  My car needs cleaning.  Maggie’s walks have devolved into jokes of their former selves.  My hobby, Model Railroading, is languishing on the workbench.  Etc.

I can also pace the floor between my den and bedroom for hours smoking cigarettes until my legs are sore.  It is strange that I thoroughly enjoy this as I hate the once six mile walk I embarked upon every day.  It is also very obsessive compulsive.  I will vacillate from pacing for hours to laying on the bed listening to the radio for hours – completely wasting my time.   C’est la vie!

Blog Themes…

I figured out a way to have a new blog theme for every day of the week.  You will see something new every morning from about 5 AM to 6 AM.  I am very excited about this as it will keep the look of the blog fresh and interesting – you will never know what to expect the next day until we have cycled through all the preset designs I have made.  I am constantly making more and saving them as .xlm files and adding them to the queue.  

Weather Blog Shutting Down…

This ties into my “motivator is broken” theme.  I no longer want to fool with the weather blog.  I realize only a select few people are going to be interested in it anyway and I feel I am wasting my time when I could be pouring those efforts into my main blog.  People are only going to be interested in the weather of the area they live in and weather is very area specific.  The sunset of the day photo will be incorporated into 4th Avenue as I love doing that and editing the photos.  I thought the sunset of the day would grew repetitive, but every sunset seems to be different which is exciting and keeps things fresh.  Sorry to the handful that actually kept up with it.     

The Poisoned Apple…

One comforting aspect of George’s drinking over the years was that I always knew I could get a drink if I needed one.  I could call George and he would be over in fifteen minutes with a case of beer thrilled to have the old times back.   Now?  Dad would be more likely to buy me a beer than George.  For some reason, this bothers me, and has for weeks.   I guess that old saying about you always want what you can’t have is true.  The same goes for my Diet Cokes.  I never thought much about Diet Cokes in my younger years.  I could always just drive to the store and buy some.  Now, I am obsessed.  I am only allowed six a day (three are caffeine free) and it drives me crazy.  Dad and I got in a fight over them last night.  He says I get “high” off of them.

Well, this morning I have been researching “hooch” or “prison hooch”.  This is my addictive personality at work.  Mom is buying me lots and lots of fruit these days and my addictive mind thought, “Hey! I could turn this bounty into alcohol!”  Yeast would be the problem.  I would have to orchestrate an elaborate ruse to get mom to buy me yeast.  I would have to buy buttermilk or milk, flour, baking powder, and act like I was baking things.  The recipes are all so varied as well.  Some even call for well worn dirty socks or underwear in place of yeast in the “prison hooch” recipes where yeast would be impossible to obtain.   Ah, the Internet; where you can find anything if you just know where to look.

Six Miles Under My Belt This Morning…

Maggie and I were passing the old cotton mill this morning when I thought, “You know? I wouldn’t go through all this if it wasn’t for this little dog!”  It’s true.  I wouldn’t walk if it wasn’t for Maggie.  I would be at home ensconced in my warm “command center” reading books, playing video games, or browsing the Internet.  I froze my ass off today and kept longing for a pair of warm gloves.  My hands were just extremely uncomfortably freezing today. 

When I got home, I thought of calling mom and putting into motion getting a pair of gloves today.   Putting into motion is a good way to describe it as it would be an elaborate process.   But then I decided not to.  It would be too complicated and it would get mom in a stir.  Mom is obsessive compulsive like me and takes such matters extremely seriously; insanely seriously.  She would have to drive by my father’s pharmacy to get a check from my account.  Drive to Wal-Mart.  Call me three times about the sizes.  And then finally purchase me a pair all the while fretting for hours worried if they would fit and if they didn’t having to return them.  

Anyways, Maggie loves her walks.  I wish you could all see how excited she gets when I pull out the leash.  It is like a little kid getting to go to the fabled Disney World every time, and it happens every day when it is not raining.  I do it for her, and I guess it is good for me.  I used to walk with a passion.  A zest.  Now?  I just go through the motions kind of like having sex after you’ve been married for twenty years.

I Want this Person in my Life…

I’ve been following this woman on Twitter for weeks now.  I love her tweets.  She’s an incredible person.  She writes on Twitter like my favorite blog author wrote on her now defunct blog; everyday mundane stuff that I just eat up.  I want to get to know a person and hear about their days.   I eat up the minutia of life of someone I’m interested in.  I realized a few days ago that I wanted this person in my life and I also realized this was the first time in my life I’ve felt that way before.  People have always just chosen to have me in their lives.  I have never purposely pursued a relationship this way before.  It is nothing sexual.  I just want a friend. 

Well, I have been commenting on her blog cautiously and tweeting back some.  I am not very good at all this so this is an undiscovered country for me.  How do you make someone your friend?  Is it chance?  Or is there some chemistry involved?  If she reads my blog then she will probably run the other direction as fast as she can! LOL

Tony, A Voice that Needs to be Heard More Often...

Tony doesn't write often on his blog, but when he does, it is powerful prose. Tonight he wrote of his journey out of addiction and schizophrenia. Powerful stuff for those of us, like me, who are walking the walk.

Tony's Schizophrenia Corner

Willy Nilly...

Dreamed last night I was homeless again.  It happens quite a bit.  I often think of selling everything I own and striking out for Nashville.  I could cavort with "The Homeless Guy" as we sat in coffee shops with our laptops. 

I'm starting to come to the realization that I need an austere life just to stay alive.  I do everything in excess and don't know how to moderate my tendencies.  I drink a case of diet coke a day.  I smoke 2 packs of cigarillos a day.  I go on great droughts of not eating then eat in excess.  Everything about me is black and white.  Dark and light.  Binge and purge. 

So, that brings me back to the austere life of a homeless man.  I get it in my head that this frugal life will avail me of my urges -- the inescapable urge to burn my candle at both ends.  The Rescue Mission would feed me two scheduled and stable, balanced meals a day.  I would sleep on a stringent schedule.  I need the harshness of that life to control myself.  I am certainly out of control as it is and feel at a loss as to what to do about it.  If I ever just disappear then you know where I am. 

In Fairness...

Dad came by early this morning to talk.  He went and bought me a case of green tea to drink. 

"I just worry about you," he said. "And I show it the wrong way sometimes.  I just want you to live a normal life. You can be so obsessive/compulsive."

I was sheepish.  I almost had another anxiety attack last night after all that and didn't want another to start.

"Drink this green tea," he said. "Charlie quit drinking cokes and has been drinking this green tea."

"Okay," I said. "I will give it a try."

He finally left and I felt better.  I want to go for a long ride in my car today and I think that is what I will do.  I am going to ride out in the country and enjoy it's sights and sounds.  I hope you all have a good day. 

Great, Glorious Day!

The weather is gorgeous here.  It is almost hard to believe it is January.  The sun is shining.  The temperature is in the low seventies.  And only a few clouds are in the sky.  I have been sitting outside in my backyard for the longest time playing with Maggie.  I worry about her. She sleeps all the time these days as if she is bored.  She grows so excited when I walk outside, attacking that pair of socks I have let her have.  That always makes me smile.

I am still waiting to hear from a detective about my car.  I doubt they will ever catch the perpetrator.   The first thing I am doing is driving down to Opelika, Alabama to Vocational Rehabilitation.  I can't overcome my fear to call, so will drive down there and speak to someone in person.  It is strange how talking on the phone terrifies me, but I will do fine if I drive all the way down there and speak to the receptionist in person.

I had another panic attack last night, but it was a mild one.  I realized I had drank far too many diet Cokes which probably triggered it (caffeine).  It wasn't one of my terrible ones, but it was disconcerting.  I thought those attacks were only brought on by the drinking, and it was a good deterrent to staying away from the old booze.  Those three beers in my laundry cabinet suddenly look more appealing today than they have in weeks.   

The Homeless Guy continues to work.  I am so excited for him!  There is no better feeling than getting that first paycheck in years!  I have been following his blog for years, have an invested interest, and feel that maybe this time may be the right time for him to get off the streets.  If he can just hold out for long enough for work to become a habit, then I think his tendency to quit will be overcome.  I emailed him today telling him how proud of him and how elated I was.  I really want to see something go right for this guy. 

More on Medications...

I am noticing a big positive effect from my medications lately. For example, I am drinking only 12 diet Cokes a day. I attribute this to my Luvox. I was drinking 24 regular Cokes a day. I am also smoking less. I used to smoke two cartons a week and now I am down to one. This makes me so hopeful that I can live a moderate life.

For too long, my life has been a life of extremes. Extreme spending. Extreme poverty. Extreme paranoia. Extreme drinking. Extreme smoking. I have always been an all or nothing kind of fellow -- the kind of soul that is always burning his candle at both ends. It is amazing I still have my health and sanity these days.

The Lithium is serving to moderate my moods. I have an evenness of feelings these days. Not the deep, dark depressions interspersed with wild mania. My doctor says I am schizo-affective -- having symptoms of both schizophrenia plus bi-polar disorder.

It still amazes me I have gone so long without drinking. For most of my adult life, I lived to get drunk. My life was one drunken binge after another. I thought today that maybe God was working in my life when I started having those terrible anxiety attacks from drinking. I cringe when I think about drinking now. Those anxiety attacks were some of the scariest things I have ever experienced. Much worse than anything I encountered from my unwell mind and the schizophrenia. I thought I was dying every time an attack would come on.

Jostling, They Come

I neglected Rosa yesterday and feel terrible for it. She walked. Watched television. Read her books and looked at magazines. She was waiting for me to finish. I tend to be compulsive and got completely caught up in writing for the whole day--sequestered in this front bedroom with the door shut. I try to tell myself I am "working" even though I see little monetary benefit (I only made $8 dollars on my blog yesterday).

"You don't have to say anything," Rosa told me as I emerged from my writing hermitage.

"Sorry," I said, weary eyed. "I got carried away."

Rosa already had on her sleeping clothes and was curled up on the couch reading a National Geographic.

"I will make it up to you tomorrow," I finally said as I lit up a cigarette--bluish smoke billowing around my face.

Rosa folded the magazine shut and got up.

"I am going to bed. You staying up tonight?"

"Yeah," I replied sheepishly. "I am not tired yet."

I heard the back bedroom door shut with a soft thud and I was alone. I felt so guilty. I hate it when my energies take an inner focus like yesterday. I have little left for others after one of my creative bursts of writing. One of the biggest side effects of my schizophrenia is a poverty of giving or recognizing others in my life. It is such a selfish disease. I get so caught up in my own desires and emotive writing that I forget that others are jostling for my time as well.

It was well after midnight when I opened the bedroom door to find a dark room and the sound of Rosa snoring. I quietly stepped inside flanked by Maggie as I took off my shoes, socks, and put on one of my favorite sleeping t-shirts. I crawled into the bed and lay there for hours as Rosa and Maggie slept. I was sleepless. I love you, I thought. And I am sorry for neglecting you. I never did sleep and finally got up to come in here and start another day of writing.