Sex and Drugs

Sex should be fun. Sex should not be something to hide from, not something to cause one to cringe away. However, due to what has happened with my lady and the meds that I am on, that is what sex has become for us.

The brief moments of sensual connection are replaced by fear on my part. I am afraid that I am pushing to hard for sex, that I am moving to fast and will trigger a flashback in my lady. But I deserve something physical, right? I am her lover.

She is afraid that if something does not happen, I will be disapointed and leave her. Then, the dissapointment she feels with herself sets in. "Why can't I do this? It is natural and good, right? But I feel all disgusting and ashamed."

And so the situation spirals out of control. I want something natural, cannot have it and pressure her without meaning to. My lady feels the pressure, tries to act in concert with what she is feeling and realises that she cannot because she feels broken and unworthy. And unless one of us is in a perceptive mood, this spiral can only end poorly.

The most frustrating part of this is that my lady wants some good lovin'. She does get aroused, but the feelings confuse and frustrate her. She is unable to act on those feelings or to acknowlage them as being normal. And my meds make it difficult to "get off". So, those rare times when we can be intimate, she can end up feeling even worse because I do not finish.

Thanks for listening.

Of Muck and Mire

Over the last three days, I was doing a good job. I came home and the good feeling left me. When I have been away for a time at work, I sometimes have a rough time adjusting to being home again. My lady has been sick to her stomach for some time now and is a bit touched in the head from her last therapy session. And I am exhausted. If you can avoid it, never go tramping about the swamps of northern Ontario in November. Try to keep your sanity and knock your face into a wall. It is less painful and is over faster.

I don't know if because I am a big boy with small feet that I sink into swamps easier, but I spent most of Tuesday with two boots full of cold water tramping about looking for snow concealed muck pits. My toes may never forgive me. Add to that, I was having difficulty eating. I never managed to stir my lazy carcass out of bed with enough time for breakfast and I worked through the lunches. I had big dinners, but I missed my three squares a day for no good reason. All this, plus being away from my support makes maintaining my mental health difficult.

So, the Muck and Mire of my title is not only in the real world, but in my mind as well. I am beginning to want to write black poetry and my wrists are itching to be scratched open to let the bad out. I have been putting one foot in front of the other with out a plan for too long, I think. Now is the time look to the horizon, to get the itch to move out of the mire and on to other things.

Fair winds

Meds and Control

I hate medications. Their value and contribution to society cannot be understated and the increase in my quality of life has been substantially improved by meds. However, I hate taking them. It feels too much like allowing control of my body to be passed onto a chemical. This reluctance to allow chemicals into my life also contributes to an irrational reluctance to eat and drink. I am Goonius, I need no food nor water!

This whole feeling of helplessness in the face of chemicals has also led me to be somewhat contemptuous of some safety concerns around chemicals. I am Goonius, I can take it. Given that my job occasionally takes me into some nasty industrial areas, this is not a good concern. This struck home to me when my brother, who has very similar feelings towards medicine and chemicals as me, caught arsenic poisoning in his place of employment. His work at the time involved cleaning up arsenic and he would then smoke, inhaling the arsenic on his hands into his lungs. Now, the company he is working for has regular arsenic tests, so this situation was caught before it could become a real health problem, but this has changed my outlook on chemicals in general and pharmacology in particular. I realize my meds are not taking control of me, they are allowing me to take control. And safety is always the priority.

Changes in Life; Changes in Me

My lady continues to improve. Her strength and determination are an inspiration to me. I, however, am devolving somewhat. If you have been reading this rant for a bit now, you will know that my lady has been going through some rough times lately. She is strong and improving, but little things get her down sometimes. And our sex life is... complicated and rare (but improving and exciting).

Yet, I am finding myself more and more run down by work. I am attempting to assert myself at work, but it does not come naturally to negotiate with authority. Generaly, I have been a good little cog in large machine. I work as I have always worked; push untill I break. That is no longer going to be my operating model, and the bosses here are having some difficulty coming to terms with that. These assertions are not made easier by me wanting to loose my cool or beginning to stutter as I approach a the key point I am trying to make. But I am making these points and becoming more confident. I have managed to secure vacation time longer than a long weekend this summer for the first time scince my honeymoon five years ago (not counting time off for crazy). I am improving, but I see that I have a long way to go.

Thanks for listening,

Goonius Maximus

Confessions of a Nerd.

Has anyone heard of Star Fleet Battles? (crickets) It is a board game I played in my misspent youth, based on the original Star Trek series. It is one of the most complecated games around. I personaly still have a 3" binder of rules (and I don't have all of them). After some heated arguments atempting to resolve the rules, the game was abandoned by my associates and I. I have discovered a lighter version of Star Fleet Battles called Federation Commander. And I have fallen in love with it.

The game manages to keep the flow of Star Fleet Battles while losing the many complications that bogged down the game system. I am really enjoying this game. Now, I just need to con some friends into coming out and playing a fleet action...

Self Worth

I have fought to be where I am. I have a good job, good chances for promotion. I have a wife who is on the mend in a most enjoyable way, and I still feel shattered. I don’t like that. It feels like I am becoming less instead of more, shirking rather than rising to the occasion. I am attempting to rise. But, there is no buoyancy in me. It escaped, fled rather than play with me.

My soul is hurt and I cannot find the wound. And the wound does not matter. It is the scar that matters. I am a good employee. I am not afraid of hard work. I am a good husband and dog owner. I am a good brother and son. I have many skills to go with my flaws. I am told that my good bits out weigh the bad bits. I must prove this to myself in order to overcome this.

I am a good person. I am worth something.

Seeing What You Have

Good things are coming to me. It has taken some time for these good things to be realised or appreciated, but they are arriving. I have a job in which they have let me be as messed up as possible with out criminal charges, and they still want me. I have a good, growing and spreading group of friends. They are literally from coast to coast to (almost) coast. My lady is continuing improving her attitude and is becoming more … intimate.

The difficulty is that my life still feels stuck in stasis, held in place or cuffed to something large and heavy. I don’t feel the motion of my life, but if I look back I can see improvements. Sandra is becoming quite the tease, which is fun. But, at work, were I am having some difficulty shaking loose from the materials manager. I am trying to spring free of him, but as he has been unable to keep any other techs, and I have become “the guy” in his mind. So, I have been getting into mine closures and hydrology. And I think I have managed to impress other people in other departments in the company, so hopefully I will shake loose now.

Thanks for listening.

Getting Back to Work

I have been off work for quite some time. My crazy brain would not let me slow down, and the fear that I felt about going back to work was insane. The universe has created a large and nasty place inside me. It made me afraid to go out in public for no good reason. But, that is coming to an end and I am feeling so rocken'. For the first time in quite some time, the universe does not completely suck.

This is not to say that my nerves have completely healed. But I have insisted in making my work environment conform to my needs. I have tried to set myself up for success as much a possible.

The Good Goon.

Medication and Me

I hate being on meds for anything. I really don't like being on meds for mental illness. It feels like a failure somehow. My doc changed my prescription, adding in something to keep the ADD (see bellow) down. She said that there may be "some anxiety".

My brain feels like it has stepped back 5 months, to when I was really shattered. Fuckn' meds. I just want to be better. I want to not be afraid to go outside.

I will be better. I hope.

Time will tell.

Fuge in Goonius Minor

I feel so low and quiet today. My sense of not belonging has risen inspite of having made a bit of progress on a couple of projects that I have been working on. I am not suicidal now. I just feel like I don't fit; I'm the ulimate square peg in the round hole. There is no reason for this. Either I lag behind or I lunge forward; a man who is never to be on the same wavelength as anyone.

The worst part about this is that I know that this is bullshit. There are places where I belong, people who 'get' me. But my perceptions are so very skewed, I have a difficult time believing that I am in the time and place where I fit.

God, grant me the courage to face my greatest enemy, myself.

My Slightly Less Shattered Mind.

Greetings, fans. My sister-in-law turned me on to a book called "Driven to Distraction". This book is about Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). For those of you who are unaware, I have a mild case of ADD. I can recall going through school wondering how I could talk the talk, but have such a difficult time writing for them, especially during tests. My spelling is god-awful, and the coherence of my writing can leave much to be desired. I knew it had something to do with me, but I was sure that I was just lazy. I never really believed ADD was the issue. In high school I got a bit of extra time to write English and history exams. Then some bright light (thanks, Mom) realised that this could affect my math abilities. And then my marks in math (75%) jumped up to 85-90. And I began to understand what was going on with me.

When I went to university, I tried to advocate on my behalf with regards to my learning disability, but I hit a major depressive slump. After I bombed out of Queen's Engineering, I took a year of arts at Laurentian University. I rocked that year, but mostly because I knew most of the things that were being taught all ready. I then went back to engineering at the University of Ottawa, where I did much better, again mostly because of my previous exposure to the material. I managed U of O reasonably well, even if I went into some exams learning the material as I went. Even though I have always had a major problem with procrastination, my best marks came in my last semester when I was taking seven courses. When I was doing so much that my mind had to be focused. This is explained in Driven to Distraction.

The thing that is currently driving me nuts is that my depressive episodes and procrastination and even the anger that has bubbled up on this blog are all things associated with learning disabilities in general and ADD in particular. I (or someone) should have realised where these feelings were coming from. This book recommended by my sister-in-law listed the secondary symptoms of ADD as (among others) anger, procrastination and depression. I think this is the key to the difficulties I have been having with myself at work. The difficulties that Sandra is going through do not help, but the core of the problem is within me.

So, for the first time in a long time I have hope for a permanent solution to my difficulties that does not involve Sandra getting better. This feels much better that sitting and waiting for her to get better.

Dogs and Sandra

For as long as I have known My Lady Sandra, dogs have been an important part of her life. But, dogs and I have until 2 years ago had a somewhat distant relationship. I was afraid of dogs. When I was little (in the NWT) a great big sled dog tried to maul me and my bother. My mom was there, but she could pick us both up and walk away, nor could she fight the dog. Since that day, I have been terrified of dogs.

Sandra's family used to have a beautiful dog named Barney. It was difficult for me to come to her house and face the dog. Now, Barney in no way was a bad dog. Except he would occasionally get excited (as border collies will get). Once or twice he freaked me out and I had to disappear from Sandra's home to get my mental feet back under me. When Sandra realised how difficult it was for me to be around Barney, she began to teach me about dogs. And Barney and I became fast friends. I did unfortunatley retain much of my nervousness around other dogs.

When I married Sandra, I knew there would be dogs in the future. Sometime far in the future, I thought. We were beginning to show the symptoms of many of the things I have written about elsewhere in this blog. About two and a half years ago Sandra asked me "Could we get a dog?"

And I said, "No, lets sort out our relationship first. I am still a bit afraid of having a dog in my own home."

She replied "When would you be ready?"

"When could you be more intimate with me?"

A brief verbal struggle ensued. I then realised that Sandra's problems were big. To big for me to deal with. This dog fight was the turning point in my understanding of Sandra's problems. After she came back from cooling off, I told her that I was ready to have a dog in the house. In six monthes. That moment was the happiest I had seen her in months. That is how Merlin came to be in our house.

Some time later, Sandra came to me with a lone puppy story. Her parents had found someone whose dog was having puppies. All the puppies were spoken for but one. And Sandra wanted that one. I caved. A couple of weeks later, Loki came home.

Now, Sandra does most of the work with the dogs and I get to play with them. It is a good deal. Our dogs heal us. We each needed someone to sit with us, when we were not feeling well, someone that would not judge us or speak with words. There are times when words do not matter. That is when it is time for our dogs. Sometimes it is better to give in.

Fire and Fog

I look for fire today. I seek passion and union. A thick fog causes me to lose my way. Which way do I turn? Every glow I follow leads me down a broken bridge, a deep pond or ends in swamp glow.

So, I continue to chase likely glows. Hoping that I may find the one that leads to my prefered campfire. I fight my way in the dark in an atempt to find my fire, my passion.

There has been to much fog in my life.

Of Pain and Shadows

In momments my day goes dark.
What once was a bright and new,
Has fallen down
With the wieght of mercury.

I hide the new pain,
Adding it to the old,
Not wanting to give this shadow
To a friend.

Flutters of the Heart

My heart pounds in my chest in fear,
You lie curled up, hands shaking at your head
A fire in your insides
That arrives from the past.

Then my heart pounds faster,
As the rage inside me wells up,
At my own impotence
While you rock gently in my arms.

And then I worry
When heart skips a beat,
And I can feel the touch of you
When you are accross the room.

Dragon Talking

My last post was composed using Dragon Naturally Speaking. It is the easiest words have flown out with me on to paper or computer ever. It was an interesting experience, and I like it. Please let me know what you think.

There be Monsters

I am forever surprised at the nature of the human monster. I am surprised by the kind of things that people can do to other people. Whether they were documented historically, from Roman times, or during World War II or the things that happened to my wife.

Most recently, and most frighteningly, my wife had a flashback while walking the dogs the other day. When we were three houses away from home. She very nearly could no longer walk due to the strength of her flashback. In bygone eras, these symptoms would merely be labelled as crazy. And she would be expected to get on with her life. In our more enlightened time, she is getting the support she needs from councillors, from work and from family. And I'm grateful for the support.

However, in spite of all this help, she still has difficulties, some three years after beginning treatment. And while what happened to her may not compare with what happened to others during World War II or during the Roman era, what happened to her was bad enough. It makes me angry that a life can be stolen with such ease. The world continues to turn. My anger and pain will not change that. Patience remains my most difficult virtue to practice.

A Fight With the Wolves Inside

I look at myself in a mirror,
The two sides of myself I see
My wolf of noble intent and strength
Contends with the black wolf of me.

These wolves circle around myself
And I wonder which will win
As I look for a hint of who's stronger,
The brawl increases the din.

I clap my hands over my ears,
I beg for the two to stop
They remain a ball of teeth and fur
And neither one will drop.

And I realize that they are me,
And only I am the judge.
I must pick one o'er the other.
One wins, the other must budge...

While this battle is done,
The war still rages afar.
The wolves come back, now and again
And I must choose a winner.

Doctor's Orders

My family doctor has "suggested" that I stay home from work for the next couple of weeks. My concentration is down and I am making amateur mistakes at work. And I crashed my truck not to long ago. And my appetite is down. And I am not sleeping well. And there are a couple of other symptoms of a fairly deep depression.

So, I am currently spending my days playing with my dogs, reading novels, and getting some work done around the house. Our place has been a bit of a disaster over the holidays, and there are several little things that need fixing or upgrading that I have been trying to find the energy to deal with. My shrink thinks that my activities are good, but it feels like to little to me. There is nothing that deals with the root causes of the difficulties I am having in my plans. And there is little I hate more than being unable to deal with problems head on.

Awash in a sea of grey,
A gull cries again,
I walk alone.

A Thing Thing

I realise that my posts have often been depressing and complaint ridden. Alas, I can find no other easy outlet for my ongoing frustrations beyond laying them on your shoulders. My current rant (that you are reading, pour souls) begins and ends with my lady Sandra.

Lately, my wife has begun to remember another assault on herself. This one was committed when she was a bit closer to sexual maturity, when she was in grade eight. This has set our relationship back a fair ways in terms of many things. Lately, she has be having difficulty being in the same bed with me (let alone being intimate). And I now have another individual who needs to be beaten with a baseball bat with a railway spike through it.

I do not blame my wife for the difficulties that she is having. In what way can any of this be her fault? We have a saying her and I. "Its not a good thing; its not a bad thing; its a thing thing." Some times something just is and it has no moral value. A rock, a sense of humor or freckles are not good things or bad things. They just are. In a similar vein, I must remind myself that this is not her fault, nor is it my fault. It is like a car crash where a drunk driver walks away, while the occupants of the other car are injured permanently. Except these acts do not even have the tenuous excuse of "I was drunk at the time."

In the future I hope to have a string of more positive posts. Until then, thank you for allowing me on your couch.