Tag Archives: Mind WIthout a Home

Today is March 24, 2014. I am alive and well.

I have no idea what to blog today. But isn’t it true that being nowhere is a great place to start? The light is on in the corner, blinking to a rhythm not even the little dogs can hear. The light in front of me is steady; it keeps the blinking light from becoming irritating. I would change the bulb, but that  would require a trip to the grocery store and for the moment, I am ill prepared to walk out of my house. I have yet to brush my teeth and I fear the sunshine would sting. Sunshine and I have a weird relationship. I know it is beautiful and fresh, but  I don’t care for it soaking into my skin. I prefer the warmth coming from the concrete, waking my soles; my shoes the only thing preventing me from acquiring blisters. 

As a kid, I loved the sun. I spent a great amount of time outside and bare foot running in the grass just for the sake of motion. I am white, but I was so tan that I looked either hispanic or native american, my features tentative, but with a ready smile. Light then seemed always outside of myself. I didn’t mind because I unconsciously radiated. Now, as I near fifty, I am glad to sense the light within in, the light that holds fast to my soul allowing me to breath in love and exhale love. As I write this I think, how corny. But Spirit is so good to me. Spirit allows me to stand tall in the warmth of the world, recognizing that all is not violent outside of my body. The world is a violent place but not always; there is always moments of light even in a dim hall when one door opens. I will walk out of the house today, knowing that the sun won’t burn me, knowing that light is lighter than dark, but not fearing the depth that dark might play. I shine; for this I am grateful.

Thank you for your readership.

Today is March 20, 2014. I am alive and well.

I just finished a book called Waiting, by Marya Hornbacher. It is a Nonbeliever’s higher power. In other words, Marya is an atheist with an amazing belief in the spiritual. I am not an atheist, but I found the book to be really engaging, and as I said, spiritual. It helped me understand my atheist friend a little more, and my friend is absolutely one of the most spiritual people I know.

Excerpt from book 2, currently untitled–

The gray is slipping from my mind. I have yet to jump into the pool in my dream. My sleep is disturbed by the call of the psych tech announcing medication time. It is morning. The Haldol caused me to sleep through the night. I wake as if there are dimes on my eyeballs and gravel in my mouth. The gravel tastes of mint. I have no idea why. Mouth wash is not allowed on the unit because of its alcohol content. I wish to go back to the pantry of my mind. Instead, I am forced to stand. Spirit pushes me out of bed. All days to Spirit are moments of possibility to meet God. Spirit promises to take me with her. We will one day meet God together. In the meantime, I can pray for vision.

Thank you for your readership.

Today is March 15, 2014. I am alive and well.

excerpt from second book–

True paranoia is me thinking the government has picked my ticket and are on their way to get me. They will use me rather than a rat to experiment with different kinds of shampoos and cosmetics. They will keep me in a cell, water me down when I smell, and feed me apricots. Only after watering me down will they test deodorant on my skin. I will be released and return home after my teeth have rotted from unmarketable toothpaste. I don’t want to qualify this line of thought with a psychological tag, but I will. I think the docs refer to this as delusional thinking. It doesn’t make it any less real. A delusion is a false belief I believe to be true to the core of my being. My medications work so well that I do have reprieves from this kind to thinking. Worry will leave me if I deep breath and allow my Spirit to attach herself to God. Shadow bickers with Spirit at times, but Spirit is the stronger of the two.

Thank you for your readership.

Today is March 10, 2014. I am alive and well.

Let my spiritual voice speak. I am very interested in this. As a person with schizophrenia, how do I know when I’m coming from a delusional place? What about the voices I hear; do they blend together creating a new voice I can trust? I think not. If I listen deeply enough, my spirit blankets me. It allows for the goodness that is me to come to the surface. I glow in a spiritual essence. On bad days, the voices want to strip me of this, leaving me vulnerable to chaos. Chaos is not cemented to my life, rather it is a paper bag that disintegrates when a match lights its corner. I am free. Spirit resides inside of me and prompts me to eat oranges.

Today is March 2, 2014. I am alive and well.

I have started a second book. At this point, it remains untitled. I wanted to include an excerpt hear–Spirit is the charcoal outline of a better me. She is the presence that moves me toward God. She is the presence that keeps me cradled in his being. My Spirit glows even in dim light. Her laugh sends bees to the stars. The bees return with pieces of honey comb strapped to their backs by fine thread. Who straps the honey comb to their backs? Pixies maybe. Fairies maybe. Somebody who is tanned by the stars and moves around in the deepest dark.

I watched The Conjuring today. It scared the bejesus out of me. Thank God I wasn’t raised Catholic, then it would have really scared me. Is demonic position possible in this world? I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Thank you for your readership.

Today is February 27, 2014. I am alive and well.

I’m just ripe from the gym…or is it fresh from the gym? I’ll go with ripe because that is the way I feel. Ready to go. No destination in mind. I don’t have to be anyplace for another hour and a half, but I will need to prepare myself to leave in half an hour. None of this is very interesting; I’m simply trying to warm up my writing mind. There is work being done outside my window. They are picking up large junks of the earth and putting them someplace else. As a kid, I would have loved to play in the hole they are leaving. My adult self, not so much. I’m more interested in not getting dirty than I am in having fun. I don’t want that to be the truth. I remind myself that I can always bathe. Let me add water to the earth, make mud, and then create pottery. I use to do that for hours believing I was on an archeological dig. The pottery was ancient. 

(I had to pause to scratch my love’s back.)

Time to end. Do something dirty today…aha! Where did that line take your mind?

Thank you for your readership.

Today is February 24, 1014. I am alive and well despite challenges.

The good thing about being sober and in recovery from my schizophrenia is that things change. The little energizer bunny is no longer running laps around my mind. In fact, he didn’t even finish a marathon, just a couple of miles that took an hour or so. 

I still hear voices which isn’t a big deal to me because mostly they are just a hum, or garbled, acting like a dog in heat who chases her tail and then lays quiet when there is no partner to find.

This morning, I managed to drag my happy ass to the gym. Quite the feat. I often wrestle with should I write when first up, or should I walk on the treadmill at the gym first. The treadmill usual wins out, especially if I know when I get home that I will have several hours to write and read, and yes my work practices as a writer includes reading; I simply try not to use reading as a form of procrastinating. Admittedly, I have avoided the terror involved in starting writing by procrastinating. But the procrastination is anxiety building, so I forge on writing sentence after sentence in a slow rumba, allowing the fear to silently leave me without protest. I seek the zone, and find it. It is glorious.

Today is February 21, 2014. I am alive and not feeling well.

I’m having anxiety that just won’t quit; the little Energizer bunny is making tracks around my brain. Maybe you are too young to remember the Energizer bunny. Is the bunny still around? I feel totally disembodied from my body. The voices say, now you are typing, and so I am. I watch my fingers press the keys, but I don’t feel home. I don’t feel grounded. I am just watching my body do things and listening to the voices report this to me. It is not a good feeling. But then there is deep breathing. This helps me.

On an upside, my friends are writing me of their spiritual practices. I didn’t think my friends could amaze me any more, but they do, they so do amaze me! It feels good in the world to have them in it.

Thanks for your readership.

Today is February 18, 2014. I am alive and well.

Recently, I have asked six of my friends to dialogue with me regarding their spiritual beliefs. I believe the dialoguing will assist me in putting to paper what it is I believe. At this point, I am open to learning if there are particular spiritual practices I am drawn too. Are some of the practices religious? What is the difference between spiritual and religious practice? How important is that difference? The six friends I have asked all come from different beliefs:  Wicca, Judaism, Aetheism, Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism. I am excited to hear their stories.

Made it out of bed early this morning to see the tax person. Glad to be filing my taxes. Another thing off my mind. I’ve been experiencing major anxiety. Not certain why. 

Thanks for your readership.

Today is February 14, 2014. I am alive and well.

I emphasize being well because well was not always the case. I use to spend a great deal of time in hospitals. In and out, in and out every couple of months due to the flare up of my schizophrenia. I have been hospital free now for 6 years, maybe 7. I credit this to the right mix of medications and my determination not to miss out on life. Life can be crushing at times, but after kicking the bricks off there is exquisite peace. Peace the size of a shower stall in which I fit. 

For Valentine’s Day, Guy took me to breakfast, gave me a stuffed bear and a beautiful card with all the right words.

Hope your day is filled with love. Thank you for your readership.