But What If We’re Wrong?

“But What If We’re Wrong” by Chuck Klosterman. In this book the author posits we may be wrong about all the science we now accept as fact. He bases this on the notion that we have been wrong about science throughout our history. From a brick resting on the ground because that is it’s natural place to rest to the Earth being the center of the universe. But what if in another 500 years a scientist comes up with a theory that turns our concept of gravity and time on it’s head and we find out we were wrong again?

Klosterman is a science journalist and a contrarian. He writes the book to give a differing view on accepted reality. He is not a physicist so he doesn’t get too bogged down but the book is well researched which I like.

The book covers other topics such as which music and arts have lasted the ages and why and which current art may be around for years. Why the U.S. Constitution may not be such a good idea and why American football is so popular. (It’s not why you might think.)

This was a good book to pull me out of my reading funk. It was interesting enough to keep me coming back for more and was broken into short sections so I could take frequent breaks. I also like him because he doesn’t take himself too seriousely and like me, he has experience pre and post internet. Yes, he has written in paper and ink print magazines and newspapers. Anybody remember those?

Suicide Solution

Trigger Warning: See title above. Did anyone else have a problem with National Suicide Awareness day? I did. I even wrote a negative comment on someone’s blog which I never do. I apologize if it was you. One of the problems I had was it is only one day. It wasn’t thought about the day before and it would be forgotten about the next day. And where was it when I was suicidal almost every day last winter? Not that a “How are you feeling” text would have cured me. The other problem I had was seeing the word suicide in all caps and large font everywhere I looked. And I wasn’t looking for it.

My last attempt was a huge mess. I got kicked out of the homeless shelter for something stupid and I only had enough on my credit card for two nights in a hotel. I had been having mixed episodes and delusions all summer. Being suddenly real homeless with no plan did not help.

The first night in the hotel my brain started making plans for me to kill myself. It devised a mathematical formula that dictated the date and time, how many beers I would have to drink and which pills and how many to take with each beer.

My first call for help was to my case manager, “Hello Sharon, this is me, can you call me when you get a chance?” I didn’t exactly sound stressed but that is me. I hide everything. During the next two days I called everyone I knew and I was crying and saying, “I don’t know what to do.” But I never mentioned I might be planning my own death.

The night before I started my plan. I had to buy the beer early because I had to start drinking at 4am and the stores were closed at that time. All the math made perfect sense to me in my sleepless delusional state. I started washing down the pills; some of them deadly and others benign. Whatever, I had a lot of everything. An overdose of Latuda is irreversible. I’m not sure but I think not having food in my stomach let it wash through my body. You are supposed to take it with a certain number of calories. So I guess I got “lucky.”

Sharon finally called me back. It woke me up. She waited so long because I didn’t sound stressed on the phone and she thought I was calling about housing and she had no news for me. I didn’t tell her what I had done but I was freaking out. She told me to come to the office. (She didn’t know I was drinking) She saved my life because after the call I started puking a lot. Strangely I tidied up the hotel room before I left.

Trying to get to the office I realized I could not operate a car. Me, being the super intelligent guy I am thought I needed some caffeine to sober me up. I pulled into the store and went inside. When I came out there was a cruiser behind my car. The cop was out and pulled his gun on me and started dropping F bombs. Somebody had called them. I was standing frozen holding two Pepsi’s. Nothing sobers you up more than having a gun pointed at you. The cop was screaming at me but he wasn’t telling me what to do besides yelling that I was going to blow the fucking breathalyzer. I had already told him I was trying to get to the mental hospital.

The backup cruise pulled in and the first officer holstered his gun and started talking in a normal voice. He calmly cuffed me and stuck me in the back of his cruiser. I told him I was trying to kill myself and all the drugs I had taken that day. (Funny the only one that made it into the police report was the controlled substance.) They brought me into the station and threw me in the cell. I was really wishing I would die so they would get in trouble and I would be dead.

It turns out they left me in the cell for so long because the gun wielding cop was at the courthouse for several hours trying to get a warrant to draw my blood for an alcohol test. I have talked to many people who worked in the legal/ drunk driving system since and they were all shocked when they heard he got a warrant. Not one of them had seen that before. The officer was turning my mental health problem into a legal problem. The protocol is to bring me to the state mental hospital for an evaluation. I could have and should have still gotten a driving under the influence charge but they were supposed to make sure I wasn’t dying first.

Would things have been different if they had suicide awareness day back then?

Back the Truck Up!

My daughter shreds on bass guitar! You can really tell she puts in the work. She is much better than I was after my first year and I took it very seriously. Everybody knows she is good but I don’t see her every day. I notice how much she improves in just one week. She chooses fast, complicated songs and learns them in no time. For the longest time she wanted to play an instrument but she couldn’t find the right one. She has found it. She practices until her fingers blister and she has the teenage hero worship of all her favorite bass players. She knows she is good too. Last time I was there she said, Come here, let me show you my talent, and smirked. She’s funny. She was always private about her art but now she wants to show it off. I could just be saying she is good because I’m her dad, but she really is that good. Okay, that’s my brag on my daughter.

Last night I closed the door on my new friend D. Even though she left a hole in the wall I could drive a truck through. Today is her weekend so she has the day off. I made my decision yesterday but didn’t know how the easiest way to tell her because she is an avid texter. I knew I would be assaulted with a barrage of extra punctuation!!!!! Many exclamation points. I can’t tell if she is trying to make a point or if she is yelling at me. She texted me three times yesterday before I had a plan of what to say to her. It was late at night and she told me she was drinking vodka. So vodka with the next day off. It would have been so easy to invite her to come visit me but I changed my mind the night before. I didn’t want to see her again but I also didn’t want to hurt her feelings. So I took the easy way out. I waited for an opportune time in the conversation to drop a “LOL.” I knew she would respond with a smiley face. How do I answer that? I didn’t.

Last week she got mad at me because she said I shouldn’t misrepresent myself as a DOM and she said I should be looking for a “normal” woman. I told her I wasn’t attracted to “normal” women. But she confused me by saying the sex was great!!!! with all the exclamation points. She further confused me by texting me every night after from her bed when she was relaxing before sleep. If I had asked her to come she would have come and I didn’t want to get into a long discussion about why I changed my mind. The problem was she changed the whole dynamic. She started telling me how she wanted sex to be when the whole idea of her coming here last week was for me to be in control. I did exactly what I wanted and only what I wanted. I got out of it without an argument but she also has tomorrow off from work and plenty of time to think about it. But she did tell me I wasn’t the type of guy she was looking for. But why was she texting me every night?

The girl who broke up with her boyfriend texted me and wanted to know about my sex life. I said it’s fluctuating and she laughed. Is she going to check in weekly? I don’t know what to tell her. There’s nothing between us. Not even a little flirt.

I asked my friends to come over and somehow I was in luck. They are usually too busy I just let them decide when to come over but I needed something with no bullshit attached. They don’t tell me one thing and then do another. Even though the sex is perfunctory it is the most satisfying. They don’t confuse me. They don’t text me all day so I can keep them entertained when they are bored. They don’t have time for me and that is what I like.

Speaking of confusing. D texted me again tonight. Last week, after we met she flat out told me I should be looking for another type of woman. Someone more “normal.” That means she’s not interested in me, right? Why has she texted me every night since? After she told me that I haven’t initiated one conversation with her. Texting is my least favorite form of communication. I never know what the other person means when they talk. If I’m having a physical relationship, I need physical conversation.

I was done for the night but this is too weird! I just tried to ask her why she is texting me all the time and she waited and then told me the cops knocked on her door to tell her her estranged brother died. It’s 2am! The cops don’t hunt you down in the middle of the night to tell you about a death in the family. They don’t care. I asked how the cops found her and she said they must have tracked her cell phone number. On what planet did that happen? Why would she tell me a story like that? If she is trying to get rid of me all she has to do is stop texting me every night. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings.


I don’t feel good today. I thought I had a lot of new things to say but I guess I don’t.


All I wanted to do was type the day of the week and it took me three tries. Forget about reading. I returned an electronic book because I Iwas reading it for a month and getting nowhere. Last time I tried to read I tied myself down and could only force myself to read four pages. I can’t focus for shit. I got intimidated by it. I would see how many pages I had left and see how slow I was reading. It would have taken two more weeks to read it. I’m making a lot of typos now. I hit the backspace key but the lag is so long I get pissed the cursor isn’t moving backwards. This site has so many cookies it slows down everything in my browser. It feels like I made a typo but it takes so long to show on my screen. I scream. I have Disconnect and Privacy Fox installed and they are not blocking everything.


I had a week of being dysfunctional. I couldn’t stay awake long enough to take my meds. So I would get 4 hours of nightmares before I woke up. Then I couldn’t decide if I should take my meds and go back to sleep or skip them until next time. Finally, last night I slept straight through for 12 hours. I haven’t done that in years.

Luckily I got all that sleep the night before I go see my daughter. That would be today. Last week it was chilly in the morning but I was sweating on the ride home. It was in the mid 60’s. Today is colder. My mom got a frost last night but she lives an hour north of me.

This winter I will have to cut down the number of times I see my daughter per month. I won’t be able to ride my bike and it looks like my only option is an Uber. I can’t afford to do that every week.

I wanted to get so drunk when I got home. I just wanted to buy more alcohol than I could drink and drink it all. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I had a good day with my daughter. I know why I get so depressed when I get home from her house and I’m not part of the family. Yes, I know alcohol is a depressant, thanks. I”m not gonna do it anyway. I have been freaking out about how my brain is working.

The Cure For What Ails You

I thought I was going to quit drinking coffee cold turkey this week. I thought it would be easy. I thought. I was only drinking two cups a day. Apparently I was underestimating how strong I was making those two cups.

I quit caffeine before when I was drinking two whole pots a day but I did the reduction method. I spent a month slowly making each pot with less and less coffee grounds until I tapered down to one weak cup per day. Then I quit no problem. No withdrawal symptoms I had heard about.

This time thinking I only had two cups a day I figured it would be too easy. The first day was easy. Until I got the headache around 10pm that night. I knew it was from lack of caffeine because I never get headaches. It didn’t stop me from sleeping. The second day I woke up and my legs would not stop bouncing up and down vigorously. It was so bad my calves hurt. I’ve had that happen before but never so bad. I looked online and found one reference to it. To test it out I went to the store and got an iced tea which has less caffeine. I drank it and within 10 minutes my legs were perfectly fine.

The next day my addicted mind started making “reasonable” sounding deals with itself. That’s what happens during withdrawal. Your brain plays tricks on you to get what it wants. This deal was no coffee in the morning but I could have tea in the afternoon to calm my legs. That sounded like a good deal. So I immediately went and bought some for “later.”

That went well for a couple days but it still wasn’t enough caffeine to feed my brain. I had cleared all the coffee from the house so I found myself shuffling over to the store first thing in the morning to get a good large cup. “It’s only for this one day” my brain told me as I put up an ineffective fight.

I am now on my third day of “just one day.” I have never had withdrawal from coffee before and thought I would avoid them with my small but strong two cups a day habit. My brain causes just enough pain to get what it wants. It tells me if I do it I can end the suffering.

I’m right back where I started a week ago. But now I am afraid to quit again. Do I really have to go so slow with my small habit? I feel silly having to cut down to one and a half and then one and then just a half cup until I can finally cut it off easily. It takes about a month to do that. I don’t have that much time or discipline.

The problem is I hate being addicted to any drug. I’ve been trying to quit stuff my whole life but I want it both ways. I want to enjoy it without being addicted. It’s always hard to see when you’ve crossed that line. I even try to quit my psyche meds but that never goes well. My anti-psychotics, anti-manics and anti-depressants. All of them are going to kill me but I am forced to take them. Not really, I could quit but I am one hospitalization away from being mandated to take monthly injections.

So I try to handle the drugs I am allowed. Nicotine was the most insidious. Alcohol has gone from being days to now I am racking up some months without it so I feel safer. I never imagined caffeine would be so hard. It’s only the middle of the week so I can only guess how I will handle tomorrow morning. If I write more you will know.

Last night I made sure I had two dollars to buy a coffee this morning. (Planning your next fix is a red flag for addiction.) I went back for another cup because I had a bad sleepless night. It made me feel horrible. (Using more than intended is another red flag.)

Now it is at the point where I am spending as much money on single cups as I would on a whole container. I decided I am going to buy a whole container and make it myself. (Protecting the supply is another red flag.) My cold turkey attempt to quit caffeine failed miserably. I have vague plans to try slowly reducing the dose until the container is empty.

What does it take?


It’s my third day without caffeine. My brain is trying to make deals with itself. I don’t need coffee. Just some tea with a little caffeine would work. Yeah, just get some tea.

The first day I got a headache for about an hour. It wasn’t too bad. Yesterday, the second day, my legs hurt like a bitch. I don’t even know if it is a symptom. I had RLS for the day. I couldn’t stop bouncing my legs to make them feel better but it got worse but I could not stop moving them or it would be some pretty bad pain. They are still sore today. I’m not sure if it is because I was using the muscles so much yesterday. I’ve only read one article saying that is a side effect of quitting.


Something happened yesterday that I just can’t keep to myself. First a girl invited herself to hang out with me for a few hours. I don’t know why because she said she had a boyfriend and wouldn’t cheat on him and I’m not in the business to help people cheat.

After she left things got weird. I got an email from someone who I thought had ghosted me last month saying she wanted to hook up and asked for my number. I gave it to her and she wrote back, “Sooo… We know each other, your name was in my phone, I’m still interested but when you find out who I am you have to take it to your grave.” I wracked my brain wondering who had my name in their phone but theirs wasn’t in mine. When she showed up at my place I was shocked. I never would have guessed in a million years who it was. It was a pleasant surprise. I had only met her a couple times before and hadn’t seen her in six months. I never would have thought she was interested in me. (It’s not anything bad. We just have mutual friends.)

This all happened over like four hours. Then the first girl started texting me, Nothing, Nothing, Oh yeah, I broke up with my boyfriend when I got home. What? Fuck that shit. I don’t want to be part of that. She just met me and breaks up with her boyfriend and they live together. I don’t think so.

While that was happening I got a text from the woman who blew me off last week and she wants to meet tomorrow. I forgot about her because I didn’t think she was interested. I know I was wishing for more sex but I don’t need it all at once. I have to take a step back and decide what to do. It would help if I could think straight.

I forgot somewhere between the last few paragraphs. The mystery woman came over again. She is the most straightforward of them all.


It’s only fucking Tuesday! I have to start giving these women names. D the woman I thought was catfishing me, came over and that was great. I think it is going to be a regular thing. While I was waiting for her to get here, JG, the girl that broke up with her boyfriend, and JB, my friend of several years both texted me. I ignored JG because I have no idea what to say about that yet. I talked to JB and we will hang out Thursday. Sometimes we fool around but I am going to tell her I can’t. She is like me, she likes to talk in person instead of texting. That is why I like her. Old school.


Okay! JG has been put herself in the friendzone after I told her about the last 3 days. She can figure out what she wants to do with her boyfriend. That is a relief but she is talking like she wants to go on platonic dates. What is that when you have a boyfriend and go on dates with some random guy? And I’m really not interested but I am too nice to reject her.

I have to figure out what I want to do. R is the woman I hooked up with Sunday and Monday. She wants me to worship and be submissive. I have never done that before. The second day she wanted me to penetrate after but I couldn’t do it after. I was a little embarrassed.

D is more my style of woman. She is very submissive and likes to be told what to do. That is what I like. She also wants to meet up on a regular one day a week schedule. R wants me to be available anytime she has a chance. I don’t know if I can handle being on call and I would have to get used to the dynamic of being submissive and get over my mental block of having actual sex with her.

Today started out shitty. I was planning on spending it with my daughter but the weather changed and I can’t ride my bike. Plus she has to do some work before school starts tomorrow. I really don’t know what I am going to do about winter. My ride is staying home because of the pandemic. I am going to have to look into a ride service but I don’t have much money. Don’t worry. She is still my most important focus with all this shit with woman going on. I told everyone not to text me today because I won’t answer when I’m with my daughter. I’m not telling anyone my plans fell through. I’m taking time to figure out why everything is happening at the same time.


I had a long talk with D last night. I thought we matched up well but I guess I wasn’t what she was looking for. She said I shouldn’t have misrepresented myself as a DOM. I told her I never said I was a DOM, I thought we were just play talking. All the women I meet talk like that. I didn’t know she really meant it. That’s the problem with texting someone you don’t know I guess.


This week was too much. Last night I shut down completely and today I feel horrible. My friend said she couldn’t make it today so I will be okay there. I’m just focused on seeing my daughter tomorrow. I made a plan for it and nothing should change before tomorrow morning. All I have to do is maintain for the day and get back in my sleep routine. I didn’t sleep last night so I should go to bed early.

I managed to write something for Sunday. I’m having a lot of trouble reading. Today I can’t even think of it and yesterday I had to tie myself down to read maybe four pages. And I like the book.


Midnight madness! Can you believe that bitch told me I should be upfront about my mental illness? She asked me and I told her. How much more upfront can I be? Wear a fucking sign around my neck?

Don’t Touch Me There!

Heart colored pencils

It was her idea to meet at Barnes and Noble, which is a large chain bookstore with a Starbucks inside. It started out well as we both drove into the crowded parking lot at the same time. I’m not sure what she wanted to do there at night. Drink coffee and talk about books? I’m capable but it’s not my idea of a fun date.

We got our coffees at the counter and turned to walk to a table. On the way I turned and said to her, this isn’t really my style, do you want to go next door to the 99 and have a couple drinks. She said, Yeah, so we tossed our full and still hot coffees into the trash and walked out.

The 99 is another chain store. It has a restaurant and bar inside. We went in and had a few drinks and laughed a lot. This was more my style. I think the low light sets a better mood than a brightly lit bookstore.

She had driven us over to the 99 parking lot which was right next to the bookstore. (I wonder if they planned it that way) She drove us back and parked next to my car. We stayed in her car for a bit.

While we were there she told me a story of going on a date with another man and he had put his hand on her thigh and she was horrified by it. She kept telling me the story as we sat in her car. She repeated the story of him grabbing her thigh at least 4 times. I got the point, I wasn’t going to grab her thigh. There didn’t seem to be any danger because we were both just sitting there talking.

Then she asked if I like to kiss. Of course I like to kiss. So we started kissing; a lot. After a while I got to the point where I would usually bring my hands into the action. Probably reaching for her thigh. But I was confused. Why did she tell me that story several times? Did she really not want me to take it further? Was it just that one particular guy she didn’t want touching her. I decided to play it safe and not let my hands roam.

Her phone buzzed after about an hour of this. She picked it up and read the text. She said it was her roommate and her dog was sick and had to go to the animal hospital. But she said it with no inflection or concern in her voice. I realized later it was her bail out text from a friend giving her an excuse to end the date. It didn’t seem right because we were enjoying herself. Maybe I should have went for her thigh.

The next day I texted her and she told me she was sorry but she has a boyfriend. That didn’t make sense to me at all. Was it even true? Was she taking me on a test drive to see if I was better than this boyfriend. I was confused again. I never saw her after that.

What do you think? Should I have made a move while kissing her?

The Shoulds

I “should” go get food today. I shouldn’t say “should.” That’s what they say, right? If you say “should” you put too much pressure on yourself and will feel worse if you don’t do what you think you “should.” What about “must?” Can I say that? I “must” walk an hour and a half to the store today because I’ve been putting it off for 4 days and I have no more food. Now that I didn’t put myself through the “shoulds, ” I am in an either/or situation. Should that make me feel better or worse. Stupid fucks with their piece of shit advice. It all sounds good to them sitting in the office with me on my best behavior. Mentally rolling my eyes at them. So now I am at the “must” stage. I have to do this fucking thing I can’t do for some reason.

I used to get a ride once or twice a month before the whole pandemic situation. It’s not the walk that is stopping me. I can walk that far standing on my head. In fact, I will feel better after walking. I know because I almost always do. It’s not the walk. It’s the abject fear. I can’t leave my apartment.

My brain has been going downhill for the past few days. I haven’t read more than a couple pages at a time. This is the first time I’ve written anything in the past 4 days. I’m only writing this because I woke up pissed off. I thought it would be no problem posting 3 times a week. Then I cut down to 2 times and I think this week is only going to be this stupid journal.

I made it! I had to get myself pissed off. I summoned all my righteous indignation. Not that I had anything to be righteously indignant about. I also didn’t start any road rage incidents like I did last time I was walking down the road swearing at myself.


I was supposed to hook up a few days ago. Everything was going well. I had her electronically LOL’ing for 2 nights. That is always a good sign. I am always ready to move from texting to real life but getting the other person to do it is the challenge. People feel safe on their phones. I made her feel safe enough for an in person meeting with one goal in mind.

She was going to come down in the afternoon so I had plenty of time. In between texting her I cleaned a little. I kept finding new areas of neglect in my apartment. It surprised me it only took 5 minutes to take care of something I had let go for a month. When I say clean, I mean relatively presentable. I can blame a lot on my cat.

Everything was working out well. She told me she was eating lunch first. Then she was taking a shower. Then she asked me for my address and asked me if I changed my mind. Was she kidding? Why would I spend 3 days talking to her if I was going to change my mind at the last second?

After she asked for my address I knew I was ready. I took a long, hot shower and found my best casual clothes. I was clean and dressed and all I had to do was wait. As soon as my ass hit the chair my phone beeped. I got excited. I thought it was her telling me she was leaving her house. Instead I read the message, “You’re going to hate me but my stomach hurts.”

I knew here stomach hurt because she got nervous and changed her mind but I said, no problem. We texted a few more times and she said sorry again but now I haven’t heard from her since except one time she said she owes me a rain check. I won’t hold my breath. I’ve had plenty of women change their mind about coming to see me but never at the last possible moment like that. I’m not really bothered by it except for the fact that I’m hyper-sexual right now. It doesn’t matter how bad I feel I can always have sex in the safety of my own place. And the chemical cocktail released by sex is much better than any of the chemicals my Dr. prescribes me. So I am a little disappointed there.


I’m making it through another morning. This time with no coffee. I’m trying to quit on a whim. It’s pretty easy so far. I wasn’t drinking much of it. But I keep thinking of getting up to pour myself a cup. It’s not there. I’ve quit before, a few years ago. I think it helped the anxiety a little but I don’t remember. I get something from it because I started again.

I finally got laid! Yesterday A. came over. T. stayed home this time. It’s okay by me. I am more attracted to A. I didn’t ask any questions. I was just glad to be having sex and resetting the clock.

Now I see what people mean by a caffeine headache. I’ve got one right now. Too bad there is no coffee in the house. It’s not so bad. I’lll see if I need to buy coffee in the morning.

Rock Bottom

They say every alcoholic has to hit “rock bottom” before they can quit drinking. I didn’t hit mine with a bang. My experience was fairly banal. I hit bottom softly like a feather floating down to earth. Of all the stupid things I’ve done when I was drunk and wouldn’t have done if I wasn’t drunk, it was something as simple as a hangover that brought me down.

It wasn’t just one hangover; it was six hangovers in 12 days. My new thing was “control drinking.” I would pace myself through 12 beers so I wouldn’t do anything stupid. The problem with pacing myself was I never felt drunk but I did get the full 12 beer hangover the next day, all day and night.

Last spring I was just coming out of a long depression and I went on a kick. It went something like this. I would control drink 12 beers and not feel anything, spend the next day and night with the worst suicidal 12 beer hangover and the next day I would be sober until I drank again that night. I did it for almost 2 weeks.

The last night of drinking I couldn’t control my pace anymore and I got that feeling and by the end of the night I did something stupid. It wasn’t major. It was just crossing a line I wouldn’t have crossed if I wasn’t drunk. It was something simple and had no consequences but I feel dumb about it so I’m not going to write anything here. Besides, it was the hangovers that made me want to quit.

I’ve had worse hangovers. I’ve had hangovers that lasted 3 days before. I never drink that many days in 2 weeks. It was drinking every other day and hungover every other day. Finally I couldn’t take the suicidal thoughts and the fear of acting on them and the guilt that comes along with that knowing from personal experience how suicide can fuck up a family for generations.

It was a sober day and I was fighting the urge to buy more beer, remembering how awful I would feel the next day. I still wanted to drink. I’m not sure how I did it but I finally broke the cycle. I didn’t know it would be a long term thing. I’ve read that hangovers are a bad reason to quit drinking because the memory will fade and you will drink again. I’ve also read you have to do whatever it takes to stop drinking. It’s the memory of the torture I put myself through with absolutely no reward. I put myself through it mentally every time I think I want to drink.

It’s working so far. That was my rock bottom. I went out with a whimper, not a bang. I didn’t do anything stupid I would regret. I didn’t get arrested, I didn’t kill myself, obviously. I just had a hangover. Actually several, but very boring compared to other rock bottom stories I’ve heard over the years.

Maybe the memory will fade. Maybe I will trick myself into thinking it wasn’t so bad. I can think of 2 reasons I might start drinking again.The first one is stupid. I would meet a woman who wants to go for drinks. I would be too embarrassed to admit I am an alcoholic so I would lie and just say I’m not much of a drinker and just go with it. The second would be much worse. I’ve never had anyone extremely close to me die. I don’t know how I would react to it but considering my past behavior, I would probably go straight to the bottle. Maybe I wouldn’t but if something ever happened to my daughter I would definitely give up.



I woke up seething with anger this morning. Good thing there was nobody here to see it except my cat. He hid under the chair until my tantrum was over. I don’t know if it is a med thing or what. I’m afraid to experiment and change the times I take them. My ex wife told me to take them at opposite times of the day but I don’t think that would be good.

I did experiment with my anxiety meds recently. I realized if I take them when I have high anxiety it is too late. It’s because they are the long acting ones and take a long time to kick in. I tried counting and found it takes 8 hours for them to start relieving my anxiety. So I started taking them as soon as I wake up in the morning hopefully before a panic attack. My doctor won’t give me fast acting bens because I have been on these for so long and he thinks I am prescribed too many already. He is the one prescribing them so…

The experiment wasn’t exactly a success but at least I know why I feel a little better after the sun goes down. Also I have a general time of day I can look to and wait for my anxiety to come under control. I always waited until the last minute before because I thought they should start working within the hour. Maybe they did a long time ago but now I have a tolerance.


My brother has a Twitter account. He doesn’t follow me on there. Instead he googles my account and reads it at his leisure. I go to his house once a year and I guess it’s just like a perfectly normal thing to do. Like he didn’t find out about Twitter by logging into my computer as me and investigating everything I did.


That may sound like a paranoid delusion as my brother tried to portray it to our mother. But after I suspected something I monitored my computer usage with the built in “windowseventviewer.” It told me that every Saturday I shut my computer off before I left at 7am to visit my daughter and every Saturday at 7:15am somebody turned on my computer and viewed webpages for 4 hours. It couldn’t have been my brother because he was “sleeping” when I left. This didn’t happen when he was 12; he was in his 40’s.

The prick’s Saturday morning routine was to “sleep” until I left the house, get up, take a shit, make some coffee, and settle down on my computer.

This happened a long time ago but I can still work myself into a rage over it. It is the biggest rumination I have left. I blame a little on myself for not completely locking down my computer but I could never imagine that happening. It’s not like I left my email open and he read it. He had to take many steps to investigate my entire life while I lived with him. He had his own computer, in his own room. I never once turned it on or even set foot in his room unless it was to talk to him.

My emails, dating site messages, interactive website I designed, my bank account (yes, he signed into my bank account), my facebook page (we weren’t facebook friends) my other facebook page by invite only ( or if he was signed in as me). That is where he fucked up. He had a few beers one night and didn’t like something I wrote so he responded on my page, as me, dropping a ton of F bombs in his long diatribe. That was at night while I was sleeping less than 3 feet away.

He didn’t only invade my privacy, he invaded the privacy of everyone who communicated with me electronically. How would you like to talk to me on a dating site and find out my brother had read all your messages? What if you were one of my pen pals?

This happened over the course of the several years while I lived with him. I paid rent so I think I at least deserved respect of my room. When I threatened to kill him, he tried to deny it but when I brought up each “coincidence” where he actually took actions triggered by what he read on my computer, he would stop bumping his gums and his jaw would hit the floor. The last thing he said was, “You know I’m nosy.” Like it was my fault, of course it was just a natural thing for him to do.


The worst part was when I went into his room and found his little journal. In it was a letter he wrote to me and never sent. Like one of those things you do on purpose. In it he said, “I took the liberty of reading your emails.” What does that mean, “took the liberty”? It was dated a month after I moved in. So basically as soon as I got my shit together and plugged in my computer, he was on it investigating. This went on without my knowing the several YEARS I lived there.

I hope I’m not regressing. I haven’t been able to read or write more than a little at a time. I skipped posting yesterday because I had nothing. When I finally got the book I wanted to read I couldn’t read it. I used to be able to write a blog post in my head and then just type it out. Now I just stare at a blank screen. I have plenty of start up ideas but I can’t get them started. I have a feeling this may be my only post of the week.

I did it. I wrote a post and scheduled it for Sunday. I used to have at least a couple scheduled ahead of time. I get less time to function each day so I try to write and read when I can. Still couldn’t read. I guess I used up all my productivity for the day.


I had to cancel on my daughter today. I just can’t function. I hate telling her I will be there and then not going. I rarely do it but I know I will be useless all day.

I listened to the last hour of SaltFatAcidHeat by Samin Nosrat. It covers the basics of cooking in detail. It is good if you are just starting out but I knew most of the information from cooking for myself and watching the Food Network. I have another book going but I can only focus for a few pages at a time. I like it but I just can’t get going on it.

That Which won’t Speak it’s Name

I listened to 2 chapters of a book that was so extreme and unbelievable I’m not going to name it. The book was about the 5 major things our bodies need to survive and thrive. The first two chapters were about food and water, which made sense. In the food chapter I heard a lot I already knew or which made practical sense. It was when he spelled out exactly what we are supposed to eat where it got ridiculous.

He claims to get the variety of foods we need we have to eat at least 100 different organic AND locally grown items. Only fruits and vegetables. I don’t even think I could find 100 different food items in my area, never mind organic and locally grown. How much time would I have to spend driving all around my state to collect them? How much would it cost? Is he going to loan me some money from the proceeds of his book? What am I supposed to do in the winter when our growing season comes to a halt. I learned that I am going to live a short and horrible life if I don’t find a solution to all these problems.

I lied, I did not finish the second chapter on water. It started out innocently enough like the first chapter on food but quickly got out of hand. He really did his research for this book and makes a lot of salient points but when he got to extremes I started to wonder who these sources were he was quoting. According to him I am drinking more than enough water per day. But I am drinking the wrong kind of water. I drink tap water which is going to kill me, probably tomorrow.

But apparently even natural spring water isn’t safe to drink. It has to be distilled water. He didn’t offer to come transport 14 gallons of distilled water per week to my house so I guess I am on my own constantly walking the 2 miles to the grocery store to buy it. Even then, the distilled water at the store is not safe because it has touched plastic. No, he suggests I buy my own stove top still to turn my natural spring water into the best of distilled water. What if I have a family of 5? Am I going to make it a full time job distilling water? Won’t that cut into my time collecting my 100 food items for the week?

The book was interesting and held my attention but for the wrong reasons. He finally lost me when he said the best way to get your water was with a machine costing thousands of dollars that extracts moisture from the air and filters out the most minute particles. I listened for a few more minutes but had to finally stop when he got to sprinkling salt into the water to get you electrolytes. Silly me, I thought sodium chloride was sodium chloride, but no, I have to buy the most expensive salt on earth from the Himalayas.

I was done at that point. The next chapter was on oxygen and I was afraid to find out I would have to move to a different part of the world to breathe the right kind of oxygen that wouldn’t kill me in a few years.

I can give you the name of the book if you want to email me. I just didn’t want to name it and shame it here. It was interesting and filled with pertinent information, I just couldn’t believe his ideas on how to live the longest and healthiest life. And none of it was proven because he was the only person in the world who seemed to be living this way. But he claimed it was the only way.