The Not so Subtleties of the Mentally Ill

I saw my psychologist the other day. I mentioned something about how I think. I forget exactly what I said but it got her hackles up right quick. She started in, about how I shouldn’t think like that because it’s depressive thinking and to look at the reality of the how and why of my situation. Then she suggested that I should keep a gratitude journal and write down one thing I’m grateful for about myself each day. The 12 steppers think this is a good idea too. Her reasoning is gratitude or expressing gratitude is supposed to elevate the sense of self worth. AA is all about eliminating the bondage of self. My psychologist thinks that it’s the image of my self and my own self talk that are the enemy. Either way I set out to do it.

That was 6 days ago. I started 5 days ago. 4 days later, I forgot to do it. This is just one line of writing. Date, dash, description. Maybe I need to leave myself a reminder to write one sentence each day about myself. In my world I’m worth endless amounts of material, so I don’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. I’m completely full of myself.

Which brings me to my last endeavor. I made a folder in my drive called “So you wanna write?”. It was to taunt me into writing each day. It didn’t matter what I was to write about, I was only supposed to TRY to write up to a 1000 words each day. I did it the first day. On the second day I sat down to do it, made it about 200 words and fucked it off. That was on the 4th. It’s now the 15th. This is the first time I’ve made an effort, towards this particular goal, since then.

It’s not that I am unwilling to write. I want to and enjoy it. But I think intellectualizing the practice has me a little bewildered about the actual work. Perhaps, it’s me expecting my work to be better than it actually is. That shouldn’t come as any surprise. I can’t sit at the piano and rip it up anymore. I could back when I was 20-22. But now I’m 34 and have spent years out of practice. Those muscle memories have atrophied in the quivering mess that is my brain.

My memory is so shot that I might have taken my meds twice today. I’m not sure. Each day is so similar that I cannot figure out if I took 2 of the greys and 1 of the whites. I should be supplementing with other stuff but I don’t bother. I was taking a trapezoidal blue pill recently called Abilify*, not Viagra. It’s a rough ass drug so I’m off of it. 75 hour half life… That’s over 2 days. It fucked with my sleep. I’d wake up every few minutes it seemed. Perhaps it was farther between awakenings. Either way, I’d wake up feeling like I never slept at all and my head would feel fried empty. Every neuron and neurotransmitter had been deep fried until nice and crispy then a 20 something ice cream peddler smashed all the nuts and candies into a scoop of it for some lucky brain scream licker. Or it might be sleep apnea. I can’t tell.

I’ve also been using ampakines and other racetams lately. Mainly aniracetam and oxiracetam, CDP choline thrown in there and occasional mega doses of tianeptine with a lion’s mane chaser, along with a bit of theanine.  Noopept doesn’t seem to work on me. Other people have great results but I think I’m a non responder. I can act all sciency but I truly don’t know a fucking thing. I used to put shit in my veins acting like some sort of street pharmacist. I wasn’t and the shit that was going in was similar in smell to the gunpowder coffee I used to get from commissary in the pen. Nice.

There are things I read on the interwebs. People who recommend having blog posts between 1000 and 2000 words. Some “gurus” say 3000 for a how-to article is imperative. I look at these knobgoblins as pufferfish**. Take big breaths and walk words in circles. I guess that’d be a talent of hypnotists. I’ve always been a bit of a minimalist when it came to giving directions. Here’s what you need to do to get it done. Don’t worry about the possible hang ups. This is all you need to know and if you follow these directions to the letter then you will accomplish your task. If you try to get creative, or try to outsmart the system, you’re going to fuck up and I will know why you fucked up. You are not able to follow directions.

This lifer*** in my 12 step group says that the definition of a criminal is someone who cannot follow rules. I think he might be going a little farther with his definition than necessary but in essence what he says is true. A criminal is someone who breaks the law. The law is a conglomeration of, sometimes idiotic, rules. If you break a law, you are failing to follow the rules. These are rules set in papyrus stone by the government, congress, etc. What I’m trying to say is that if someone fails to follow my directions to the T and fucks up, they are not only fucking up, they are a criminal. They cannot follow rules, therefore they cannot be expected to obey laws, therefore they are criminals and should be culled from our society.****


In jazz the soloist often twists melody around in circles to express new ideas out of seemingly mundane melody. These fucking writers with their stupid sites that I don’t HAVE to spend time reading, are not jazz artists. They are not artists. They are chuds trying to pinch a coin off cats coming along to jerk themselves off in the name of self improvement. Coltrane could write novels with his solos that would confuse even Mark Z. Danielewski. Coltrane was a prophet of sound.***** He’s in a category of his own because he put in the work to get the skill.

Who needs self improvement when you can look at the legacy of a single man who put in daily work, blood, sweat and tears, to follow his truth? Well you don’t need self improvement to be that guy, you just can’t be a lazy fuck like myself.



*  I’m bipolar, as I’ve mentioned before.  It sucks, but I can tell you, mania feels amazing.  I don’t take a typical mood stabilizer so I’m prone to episodes of hypomania.  This isn’t good as I’m not exactly trying to go back to prison, so my shrink and I are working to find a more typical mood stabilizer.  It’s not going to be Abilify.

** This one of the many reason I love the shit out of Aces stuff over at 80proofOinomancy.  Ace uses space and literally causes the reader to think for his or herself.  You have to love the promotion of self thought as opposed to the doldrums of having everything spelled out for you.

*** Lifer means a dude who has served or is serving a life sentence.  In this case it’s a dude who has served a life sentence.  I met more than I would have cared to meet along my journey.  But they have all given me a unique view of the world around me, and for that I am grateful.

**** I also acknowledge that I have always been unable to follow all the rules.  You can call me an outlaw, a criminal, degenerate, delinquent, whatever, but you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.  Rules were meant to be broken.

***** Instead of the motivational song  used at the top of those post, I was going to use “Impressions” by John Coltrane off his album Live in Stockholm 1961.  There is no youtube for this song.  I’d highly recommend educating yourself about the sounds of this great man.



One thought on “The Not so Subtleties of the Mentally Ill

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