17 July, 2016

Family Assistance

Sometimes it is nice to take a day away from the typical environment, despite how hot, or messy, it might be.

Saturday came and went, and with it, a day of helping my father-in-law sort bottles and cans. The four of us, in the sun, counting and counting and counting.

On paper, it sounds like a terrible chore. However, in practice, it was a wonderful day of love, laughs, and support.

Brittney and I wanted an excuse to be out and about, so it was nice to have a reason, especially one that made us feel productive.

As the afternoon wound down into the evening, her father treated us all to a wonderful sit down dinner. I was so glad to eat, but like I told them, I didn't need anything fancy, nor anything at all, though, even a double cheeser and a frosty would have hit the spot. Regardless though, damn it was yummy.

I am thankful for the time I get to spend with loved ones, and I hope that those around me feel similarly about me. I always have that fear though, I just hope I'm always going to be good enough...

So, this post is kinda weird. I'm extremely tired, and writing isn't making it any easier to stay awake...

I am sad though. Social security is breaking me, and as a result, we may lose our house if I can't find a way to make some sort of money. I receive roughly $930 per month, and as of August, it will all be done.

These four years of feeling dead in the water has not been a paid vacation, but it sure has helped me learn a lot. Regardless of the outcome, I know more about myself than ever before, and I have a stronger support system than I ever knew existed.

Now if only I can find a way to make enough money, doing what I love, to survive and thrive. So... if you are ever board, you can come see me on YouTube. :p

Okay, time for sleep. Goodnight.

--RE

14 July, 2016

Mutual Trust

Trust. A decision to open yourself to the will of others. So wise are those who can manage trusting in those who are trustworthy, while seeing through the facades of those who are not.

I'm not a very trusting person by default. I've spent years trying to convince myself that it is okay to speak aloud in matters that deal with my emotions. This is because, to me, my emotions are the most sacred aspect of my human form. Letting others in to see me for who I am leaves me open to the sorts of manipulation that I might not be able to fend off. So thus, trust is shyd away from.

It wasn't always this way. Sometime before my teens, I was so open to the world that I new. I trusted authority figures, I felt comfortable talking, all be it loudly, about my problems and desires.

However, at some point, everything changed. I started seeing people as enemies, cloaked figures waiting for their chance to strike. People who created a world of pain in theur wake, for the sake of a sick joke. Slowly, I lost hope. Slowly, I became what I feared.

It wasn't until I broke free of my mental shackles sometime after turning 21 that I realised I had become someone I was not comfortable with. Words escaped me that I didn't know I could throw around so freely. Predispositions to situations were created in response to concepts that existed entirely in my head. I, for all intents and purposes, was racist.

Not out of some conscious effort of hating a group of people because of their nationality, but because I hated myself, my existence, my history. I hated so much of what I stood for, I found reasons to hate others as well. I created broad generalizations of groups to accommodate a need to redirect my self disgust.

Yet, what did it get me? Looking back, I realise that influences really played a role in how I dealt with my distaste for life. These influences set the stage for how I managed to maintain my existence, my survival of self, for hatred was all I knew.

These times, they saddened me. I know now, and even knew then, that broad generalizations were bullshit, however the gut response to jump to those conclusions persisted.

Yet now, here I am, improved on this front, with open arms to all of my co-inhibitors of earth, and beyond. I long to share my love and compassion with those whom I find agreements with, and even those in which I don't, or cant, see eye to eye.

But there lies a problem inside of me. I don't know how to deal with those unwilling to change, unwilling to share a mutual respect, unacceptably that the world isn't what their perceptions have created. These people I loathe. I push them away like they are infected with a virus that I may contract. Why? Because to me, i fear tha t by allowing myself to swing too closely to those perceptions and actions, I leave myself open for reverting back to what I used to be.

Still, sometimes it is easier, not to mention instinctive, to have words, feeling, and emotions bubble to the surface. However tough it may be though, I know that fighting these feelings, and allowing myself to be vulnerable to those who deserve my love, is more important than any other options available.

My dream is to surround myself with people I trust, and people who trust me. Yet, I know that for this cycle to start, I need to not only be honest with myself, but be honest with those around me as well.

... yet I've recanted the entire paragraph that this was supposed to be... maybe one day... maybe one day.

-RE

13 July, 2016

Losing Hope, Trying to Smile

I'm finding my mind drifting. Slowly going a stray, lost in this damnation, our eternal fray.

The prospect of being forced to work is growing. I can feel the gripping hands of economic requirements strangling me, getting tighter and tighter, faster and faster.

I've learned so much in these past four years, and I am thankful for the support I've received,  but I can't help feeling like I'm going straight out of the boat, and into the ocean.

My current goal is to keep writing, one day, creating an article for the website Cracked, or something, explaining just what it has felt like to go through these emotional times.

I think one of the worst feelings for me has to be the negativity people have toward those receiving benefits from state and federal sources. The constant judgement is disgusting. It is like poor people are not allowed to have nice things.

For instance, I have a smart phone because I have wonderful friends who allowed me to have their old one for free. I receive wonderful haircuts, because one of my best friends is trained in cosmetology. I imagine that if nails were a thing he was into doing, and I was into receiving, he would dedicate the time and resources to creating me for who I wanted to be. Yet I would be judged for looking "done up."

One of the other things that brings me to a boiling point is the idea that people on disability and welfare want to be there. Really, do you think a person would choose to live below the poverty threshold? Eternally stuck in a balancing act of surviving and expenses. I know I don't enjoy that aspect.

The compassion for people, our brothers and sisters, our friends and loved ones, our co-citizens of this fine nation is disappearing. In politics we see entire platforms running on the ideas of cutting programs that support the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, all in the name of greed. We, as a nation, have learned the concept that it is okay to disregard others,  so long as it is in the name of money. Greed, lust, jealousy. These are what entire platforms are running on, and it is sickening.

Yet,  these problems aren't just localized here to the United Stated of America. It is a global crisis, a global provider for hatred and segregation. Furthering the creation of invisible lines in the sand, as if between two rival siblings during a squabble. However, these siblings resort to violence instead of words, and threats instead of compromise, making for a gruesome cycle of hatred and pain.

I'm tired of living like this. In the past I've thought about running away, trying to become a citizen in a different nation, but I don't want to run. If our great leaders ran from the problems of an unstable nation, we would be in a very different reality than almost any of us could imagine.

I don't want to be known for running. I want to be know for standing, quietly, contentedly, for the things I know are right, not only for myself, but for the greater good around me. I am tired of expressing words that mean little, in the name of filling the void. My hopes is to talk less, by speaking in a more focused light. Then, when words aren't required, let the world travel on, and my hand/mind do the rest to express my thoughts and emotions into the world.

We all long for change, however, is the change you long for a net positive for society, or just yourself and/or your small social click alone? If the latter is the case, it may be time to focus on who you are as a person, and reflect on the events that have brought you here today.

I don't expect you to change over night, no. However with a conscious effort,  more and more quarks will become apparent, leading you to a way f o create a healthy you for yourself, and those around you.

--RE

11 July, 2016

Socialization and the Broken Mind

It seems that the focus of human life is socializing. Interacting with others in the name of a common goal. Finding solace in the arms of your friends and family.  Yet,  despite socializing being such an integral part of human behavior and development,  I feel so out of the loop.

I can talk with people if we have a shared interest, or a mutual connection, however, nurturing that relationship is lost on me. It seems that I would rather let my relationships deteriorate than be the type of person to always make the first move.  Our much off any move at all that is.

I've been so tired, so hopeless,  so... broken. It is hard for me to want to curse others with my presence. Yes,  I feel like a curse on the world. A leech, a zit, an over flowing garbage can of human mass.  Always depressed, able to recognize my depression and various problems, yet unable to pull through, as if I were behind an invisible fence,  locking me in to the desolate pasture that is my life.

Melodramatic. I've heard others use that term while describing others in my similar situation, yet never about myself directly.  I wonder if what others think of me gets masked for the sake of their conscious, not wanting to directly offend me for fear of upsetting me. Stupid mind. Stupid stupid stupid.

So, on Saturday,  I sliced a bit of my thumb on a mandolin, while prepping carrots for Mac Salad... It should heal nicely. I've gotten lucky these past two events.  First the Hydrofluoric Acid,  now the accidental slicing.  I hope there won't be another accident soon.

I'm tired of hiding. Mental health needs to be accepted and talked about. I am somewhere beyond sad,  with bouts of such intense excitement,  that the world and it's problems seem so distant.  Yet,  I come down so fucking hard. My mood can go from these two extremes in a matter of moments sometimes,  depending on my external stimuli. Other times it is a slew change,  like watching a dark cloud come up the horizon.

Either way,  these emotions,  they hurt, they break my will to live, they take away my opportunity for progress.  Yet, not many people understand, or see, just how much I suffer.  Mainly because I chose to fake it around those I don't trust.  Up to and including my Psychiatrist. Why? Because showing weakness to those you don't trust is like turning your back on a wild animal.  I feel like I can't afford to risk my emotions opening up to someone like that. Especially not verbally.

So thus I write...

--RE

09 July, 2016

Ask RE Anything - Episode #4: Fears




» Greetings Minions of Internet Land! «

»» Ask RobustEnigma Anything ««

»»» Episode #4: Fears «««



Finally, after over a year long wait, it's here!

I'm glad I waited to make it just right. :D

The first few attempts were just not up to par.



As always, if you have any questions for next time, leave them in the comments below! :D



» Donate to The Planetary Society «

»» http://goo.gl/2D9zXh



» Donate to SETI «

»» http://www.teamseti.org/



» http://www.robustenigma.com

» https://fb.mr/RobustEnigma

» https://www.twitter.com/RobustEnigma

» https://plus.google.com/+Robustenigma1923/

» http://www.reddit.com/r/RobustEnigma/



» System Specs «

»» http://goo.gl/fSc9vL



» Season: 02

» » Episode: 03

This Cold Life

Isn't it a shame how we always down less time doing what we want to do, and more time playing pickup, catchup, or trying to get to where we long to be?

It's official, I am journeying through an existential crisis, and I'm okay with it. Since May or so, my thoughts have been pretty negative, questioning my past, present, and future. Yet, why? What is the point of devoting so much energy to worrying about the pain I've experienced? Or exhausting myself over finding the perfect path into the sunset. Why? Why not just take that energy and focus it on making a true decision. A decision for good.

Well, I know for a fact my mental health has been questionable at best, leaving myself prone to negativity and suffering. Past that, I've done okay for the past few years in regards to prepping for a future I dream of. I have been learning, and changing, and growing. However at some point I lost the understanding that it is okay to play the day by ear, without punishing myself with shame and guilt for not having a dedicated course of action.

Ramble ramble ramble. I am tired. It is 00:38 and I am laying here on our couch, blankets and pillows equipped to create a makeshift bed. I'm not where I want to be, yet, but I know one day, the future is holding something grand for me. I just have to keep looking, keep sharing, and keep focusing on how I can make me a better version of me. Not just for myself, but for those around me as well.

Good night.

--RE

07 July, 2016

Catching Up

Trigger Warning:
This post contains talk of suicide and depression.

Today (yesterday since it's after midnight now) has been a very rough day. I've felt the world grind to a halt, or so it felt...

These past weeks, knowing that I may be losing everything I hold dear, have left me in a broken state of fear.

Rereading my letter from Social Security, I found that during my appeal process, I might not be able to continue receiving my paychecks, as I waited longer than 10 days to notify them of my intentions, despite the fact that later in the letter says I have 60 days to respond.

The language on my first read had me thinking that the 10 day cut off was to continue Medicare coverage alone, as opposed to Payments as well. So, now I sit, unsure as to what is happening,  hoping my previous lawyer can help guide me through this insane process.

I'm not going to lie, I've thought about suicide. I've though about how to clear myself from this existence, hell, I'm not going to lie, I even attempted recently, only backing out as the images of loved ones flashed before my darkening gaze. It is a terrifying experience. I am losing my mind over the fear of losing the life I've worked so hard to create with Brittney.

If I lose my benefits, we lose our home, our debt will fall behind and become delinquent again, except this time, there isn't much,  if any, safety net to fall back on. Last time my sanity broke and we lost it all, we had our mothers. We started at my mom's, then after I went inpatient for the second time, Brittney lived with her mother, and I stayed with mine. They were some trying times.

Now, four-ish years later, with my debt consolidation loan in place, new debt acquired,  and a better roof over our head, we're entering a repeat of what happened before. Neither of us are sure what will come of this appeal, and while we are trying to stay positive, my depressive mind is going south fast.

Britt and I talked extensively today about how I am feeling, and how I've been retaining too much emotional pain. Discussing in depth how scared we are and how lost we feel. It was hard for me to let myself cry in front of my wife, but once I cracked, my face was pouring fluid like a leaky bag of pancake batter.

All in all, I think the attempts are behind me, as I long to stay out of the hospital, however, the latter isn't off the table yet. I'd rather suck up my pride and check myself in for treatment, than say a final goodbye.

Here's the one problem I have though. I hate talking. My voice, my topics, my emotions, it all angers me out loud. I hate trying to explain how my mind jumps to thoughts of sadness and death. How my instinct is to pray I die, rather than find a viable solution to my problems. I don't know why the voice in my head treats me like it does, but articulating those emotions and events are seemingly impossible with words alone.

Yet all anyone ever wants to do is talk. They want to try and help me find a solution. Which, is all well and good, except the fact that looking someone in the eyes and admitting my failures fills me with so much shame that I end up worse than I was before. It is one of the main reasons I stopped visiting my Psychologist. Not to mention she was costing me anywhere from $40-$60 per month, on a $900 budget. It doesn't sound like a lot, but it is when living expenses kept us so strapped for so long.

So now, Brittney and I started finding a groove of comfort. One with myself thinking less morbidly, practicing hobbies and crafts on my own time to keep my mind busy, and even trying to help my mother with her problems on occasion. Britt, picking up more hours to help clear our debt faster, and supply us with a more comfortable living environment. Yet, here we are. Falling back down the spiral staircase out of Hell, tumbling faster and faster to the possibility of a desolate future that I'm not sure I'll be able to recover from.

I love you all, which is why I'm trying to be so honest, but if I disappear,  I am either in the hospital, or worse. Let's hope that neither of those outcomes happen, and that life can just retain the value we've created for ourselves since the start of this mental health journey some years ago.

Seriously though, please don't call the authorities after reading this. This isn't a plea for help. I'm not currently at risk this very moment. If I do become a risk to myself or others, I already have a stable plan of action to receive the help I would need to remain safe. The best thing for me now is loving support of a non-triggering nature.

Thank you for reading.
Goodnight my loves.

-RE