Sunday, 24 November 2013

Writer's Block

Again, I haven't written in quite a while. For those of you who still even remember I do a blog, thank you for your patience. For the rest, you've moved on with your lives and have begun to ignore mine.

I have had serious writer's block for months now. I have had no desire to write anything, or have had nothing to write about. Some days there is a freight train in my head bearing down - ideas coming loud and clear. Ideas that make it hard to concentrate on any one thing, causing me to pack it up for another day. A day when my thoughts are more clear and concise. Obviously that day has been a long time coming. Other days, I hear crickets. Nothing. Not a thought to ponder, not a notion to perceive. 

I can contribute some of this confusion to my disorder,  Bipolar makes one slide back and forth between depression and mania in the blink of an eye. With the sliding scale being one of panic and anxiety. Finding the Eutheric (middle ground) state is not easy, and then to find the opportunity to write within that state even more difficult.

Today I've found it. A quiet Sunday morning, laptop in hand, nothing to listen to but birds outside, even if it is the sound of their frozen bodies crashing to earth. The cat is cleaning himself, and the coffee pot makes the occasional hiss. Short of that, it's the sound of the keys and my own breathing. Total relaxation. Total Eutheria.

This being my first post since March, I should write something profound. Trust me, I'm looking for it, keep in mind that I make this shit up as I go. Let's start with new developments in the life of a mid-life crisis. After all, that's what this blog is about! We've started a new tradition here at Wilsonworld, Sunday is Dr. Who and weird food day. Every Sunday since January a good friend of ours brings over a thumb drive containing this week's Dr. Who episodes. He's downloaded ALL of them, starting in 1963. And we watch. So far we've made it to season 16. In the midst of that we have begun to experiment with interesting dinner ideas, with Jarrod's eclectic assistance. Some are winners some are losers, but all are worth trying. If anything it has opened our minds to new ideas for dinner and made us all try new things. Even the kids get involved, not to mention they love Dr. Who. Jarrod is also a serious gamer, and always brings a selection of games in case we change our minds. It makes for an interesting day.

The second big change here is my son getting a job. He's working part-time at The Keg. It's not really a big deal unless you consider that it makes him actually grown up now. The realization that I am the father of an adult has not quite kicked in. He's planning post-secondary education, getting his license, working, and he voted for the first time this year. All the things that makes one realize that mid-life really has arrived. 

Thirdly, my youngest turns 13 this week. Last week we went to the High School information night, where she will be applying for the International Bachaloriate Program. This program is advanced academics with additional focus on community service, extra-curricular activities and more. When she completes the program she will be awarded three university credits, and her chances of getting into almost any school she wants will be greatly increased. It's a difficult program, and she must still be accepted, but she's determined. Even if it means taking the bus across town to get to school everyday.

But enough about the kids, they're vastly overrated. Kim is in training at work. Firstly for server applications, secondly for management qualifications. She's doing them both at the same time, so she's driving herself nuts. Soon, she'll catch up to me. This workload has given her the preverbrial get out of jail free card - we don't bug her if she wants to sleep, go out, or anything else. She's earned the right to do just about anything.

Finally, there's little old me. Still nuts. Still Bipolar. But with a few added features. I'm now a member of the Mental Health Connections program, which gives me access to many programs that I would not get elsewhere. For example, free gym membership! I'm also signed up for something called the Experiential Training Program, where I actually work for the Canadian Mental Health Assocation in some capacity or another. The idea is to get back into the workforce slowly while at the same time having my needs met by CMHA staff if I need it. They also help with job seaches, resumes, portfolios, and more of that good stuff. 

And with that you are caught up on my little life. My peace has now ended as people are starting to move around and start their days. I hope you all have a good one yourselves. Watch out for falling birds.


Thursday, 7 March 2013

Anti-Psychotic Dreaming

I just realized the last post I put up here was November 28, 2012. Wow, I'm really lazy. In that time many things have happened, almost all of them I won't make public. The rest, I just haven't felt like writing about either because of depression or maybe it just wasn't worth the effort. Either way, last night's dreams deserve mention.

I'm presently taking a slew of medication to control my Bipolar problem. They're all anti-psychotic meds with differing side effects. One causes short-term memory loss, one makes me sleep like a bloody narcoleptic, and one; my favourite, causes dreams that might be on par with an acid trip. Last night it kicked in. I want to get this down before I forget about it because it was so vivid and so strange. So sit back and enjoy a taste of my drug-induced subconscious...

The tower as it appeared in my dream.
I didn't add all the details, nor did I even
count the floors, but you get the idea.
I didn't want to spend all day on this.
I was sitting in my home office designing the new sky scraper that was to be my office. Once I was done, I picked a location and hit print. The wi-fi controlled 3D printer immediately began to construct the tower - 84 floors. I don't know how long it took to print the building, but I was soon moving into my office on the 42nd floor. I have no idea what or who occupied the rest of the tower.

Family and friends began to gather to celebrate. My car was in there too, again, I don't know how. My father showed up with his car, a 1952 Alpha Romeo sport. He had an entourage with him, his own friends some of which I knew, the rest were strangers. Somehow they all fit into the two-seater. It looked like a convertible clown car.

My father died in 2009.

More people began to gather. Now people in business attire trickled in; I assume they also work in the new tower. We were in a room that closely resembled a log cabin. Hand-hewn logs for walls, plank boards for a floor, no windows, and a great stone fireplace. Off to the distance I notice a bar. We, complete with our two cars, were in an Irish pub. While people drank my father handed me replica antique cars he said we could use. I argued with him because they weren't the same scale as the replicas we intended to use. I of course, lost to my father. I have no clue what the significance of the replicas were, except that we were sitting in our respective cars while having this arguement. 

More people came in. Everyone was talking about the upcoming wedding - in three days. There was a table set up near the door where people were depositing flowers. Strangely, all the same kind; mostly stems and leaves with small white flowers. The table quickly piled up. Some people simply entered, deposited their flower gifts, and respectfully backed out as if someone would ensnare them in some sort of trap if they entered. There was more talk of the wedding, but no talk of the bride and groom.

Later, there was news of a death in the family. I don't know who, as far as I knew every member of both families were already in the room. I looked around to see if any of them were actually dead, but everyone was drinking merrily. The news spread fast, everyone knew of the passing within minutes and the party turned into a wake. After all, we were in an Irish pub. (with two cars on the 42nd floor of a tower). The problem quickly became apparent, the wedding and funeral would have to take place on the same day, but which had priority? One suggestion was to lay the body out in the casket at the back of the church. Another was to.........

This is when I lost it. I either woke up here, or my brain just had enough. I've spent the morning trying to jog my memory, but there is nothing after this thought process. Maybe that's a good thing. I'm quite disturbed by the imagery in this dream. especially my father showing up. I know it's common to dream about relatives we've lost, but this was so NOT my dad. Everything about him differed in some way or another from the subconscious portrayal. Maybe I was dreaming of the way I wanted him to be? Maybe the way he wanted to be? I don't know. After all it was just a dream.

The night before I had a less intense and much shorter weird dream. I had joined the US Army, but I wasn't at any sort of boot camp, it was more like an academy. The uniforms were not military - short sleeve white collared dress shirts and navy blue dress pants. The shirt had a small patch on the sleeve the simply said US Army.

From the time I got there everyone seemed to know me, and all gave salutations as if I was a celebrity. I remember heading up to my classroom one day with books in hand. When I sat down I was handed a brochure with my name on it. Apparently I had won free flooring for my entire house from Marquis Tile in Windsor. So I still lived in Windsor, I have no idea where this academy was, what I was doing there, why I was known, and why I won. Again, just a dream.

So now you have it. This is what my medication does to me. I also apparently talk in my sleep. The kids have great fun when I crash on the couch and begin to chatter. One in particular I found amusing was telling Riley to cover her brother Iain with chocolate and put him in the oven on 400 for about an hour. I have no recollection of that or any other verbal dreams. But as long as I keep people entertained, that's fine by me. 

As least Kim knows that I can never keep a secret from her.

I promise to write again soon!