Diggerz Mania

Writer's Block: Clock Punching

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 20:30:13 GMT

What was your first job?

My very first job, making money of my own, was mowing lawns at the age of 10. It was a thing where I grabbed the lawnmower, went door to door, and solicited yards that looked as if they needed to be mowed. I made extra sure to frequent houses that I knew had older persons or retired persons living at the residence. My fees were minimal: $7 for a simple mow, and $10 for a mow and raking of grass clippings. If a yard was mowed weekly, the raking was minimal, and the extra $3 was for only an extra 20 minutes worth of work or so. For the size of the yards in my childhood neighborhood, I could easily make $10 for about an hour to hour and a half's worth of work. In 1981 dollars, that was huge for a kid. Cutting two or three lawns a week during the summer, and I would make as much as 15 weeks worth of allowance money. That year, I saved up enough money for some really great games to go withour ATARI 2600 game console.

My first job, where I was hired for an hourly wage, was working for a 7-Eleven convenient store; where i worked as a stock boy and deli case food preparer. I started every shift straightening the shelves and making that they were stocked full of items from our store room, and then I would spend any where from an hour to 3 hours making sandwiches and salads for the deli case. Sometimes, customers would see me making the sandwiches and would ask for special orders; double ham and no salami, or provelone cheese instead of american, etc,...
As time progressed, I learned to run the cash register, and by the time that I was nearing the end of my employment with 7-Eleven a couple of years later, I worked the midnight shift during the summer after my senior year of highschool. All this for minimum wage; which at the time was $3.50/hr

Kindergarten Orientation

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 18:57:57 GMT

This morning, we took Jack over to his school for Kindergarten orientation. We got to meet his teacher, Mrs. Huning, as well as his principal and the school nurse and other staff members from the administrative office.

Jack got a tour of the school and got to mingle along with his new classmates, while Mom and Dad met with the teacher along with all of the other parents and got a run down of things Jack will be doing in class over the next school year.

Jack was supposed to get to ride the bus home this morning, after all of the scheduled activities were done; but there was amix up on his registration papers that had him still attending Bright Start Academy as his drop off location. We got the mix up fixed, and all will be fine for him to be dropped off at our house starting on the first day of school; but the driver didn't have his stop on her schedule for today so he had to ride home with us. He was a bit dissapointed about that, but he was over it by the time we got home.

When we got home, Karen made scrambled egg onlettes for all of us to eat, and then I settled in to take a nap before having to come into work. I'm so tired today that I almost can't stand it. Karen and the kids sat down and started watching a movie together, and Dini was settling in to take a nap of her own when I left the house for work. I wish I were joining her. :-)

Writer's Block: Proven by Science

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 21:21:43 GMT

Do you believe everything has a scientific explanation?

Submitted By mesnyder_92

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Absolutely not!

I believe that there are a great many things in this world, galaxy, and universe, that can only be explained by the fact that they are wonderous creations of God. We can observe them, wonder and ponder over them. We can even classify and categorize them to help us to quantify their existence in our reality; but it ultimately boils down to the fact that Gos has created all things, and makes all things possible.

Not every mystery needs to be solved and filed away. Sometimes it is best to let God handle things and rely upon Faith.

If Tomorrow Never Comes

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:32:15 GMT

Sometimes late at night
I lie awake and watch her sleeping
Shes lost in peaceful dreams
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark
And the thought crosses my mind
If I never wake up in the morning
Would she ever doubt the way I feel
About her in my heart

(chorus)

If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That shes my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes

cause Ive lost loved ones in my life
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them never were revealed
So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstance
Where theres no second chance to tell her how I feel

*chorus*

So tell that someone that you love
Just what youre thinking of
If tomorrow never comes

Dini's rash

Wed, 15 Jul 2009 21:36:44 GMT

Karen just called me on the phone to tell me that she has made an appointment for Delaney to go to the doctor this afternoon at 4:30. Her rash does not seem to be getting any better, and it has spread all across her face and down to her chest.

It's the strangest thing. She hasn't run any kind of fever to indicate that she's sick, and she isn't scratching at the rash (which look more like hives of some sort) the way that you would scratch at poison ivy. She just occasionally scratches at it like it's a casual annoyance; and in fact, I haven't noticed her scratching at her face at all (which is where it it showing most prevelantly at the moment).

I wish that I could get out of work to go with them to the doctor. I'm always concerned and want to be hands on any time that something is wrong with one of my babies.

UPDATE: Well, it's not a poison ivy, or poison anything else, rash. But we're not 100% sure what kind of rash it is. So for now, we are going to be applying a prescription strength version of a hydrocortisone cream multiple times per day, and giving benadryl every 4 hours or so. More later as things progress.

I couldn't put down the book

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 22:40:45 GMT

I stayed up way too late last night.

I got started reading my latest book, just as Karen and I were going to bed, and I found that I couldn't put it down. I've been somewhat dissapointed in the book (Oathbreaker, by Nick Kyme) up through the first half. While the characters have been colorful and interesting, even well developed and intriguing, the pace of the story line has been somewhat frustrating. The story too rife with a sense of doom and dread, and too many character deaths, to allow for a smooth flow of the overall plot. But just as I was really starting to get frustrated with the whole thing, it started to take a turn for the more interesting. So, I'm hooked to read further to see how it turns out. I read until 2 AM in the morning, until I reached the last 1/3 of the book.

Things seem to be turning around a bit for the beleaguered dwarves trying to save face in their attempt to reconquer the lost dwarf hold of Karak Varn. At this stage of the book, almost half of the small army that set out for the task has been killed in tragic battle or other fell demise. The enemies that the throng set out to vanquish have proven to be too large a foe to conquor; and with 2/3'rds of the book read, there have been no glorious battles to celebrate, no heroic deeds to revel in. Just doom, defeat, and despair. Now, the remaining dwarves have changed their end goal. Rather than reclaiming the hold, they've made a pact to make sure that if they can't have it, then no one can. Not Dwarf (dawi), not Goblin (grobbi) nor skaven (rat kin). There's no hint that any of the main characters will come out of this story alive, but then again, at this point that's not even their end goal. So, that's why I was up reading until 2 AM this morning. I have to know what happens next. LOL

Surprisingly enough, I'm not overly tired today. I woke up a bit groggy and out of sorts, but managed to get to work earlier than usual, and have been having an ok day thus far.

K-9 Mole Slayers

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 05:04:23 GMT

For about the past 4 to 5 weeks, I have been trying to figure out a way to catch, kill, or run off a pesky mole that has been digging burrows and tunnel-trails across my yard. It wasn't so bad when it was only the far south corner of my back yard; closest to the tree line and common grounds that butt up to the back of my property. But when it began moving up the fence line and into my front yard about a month ago, I started getting concerned. I now have a couple of thin trails of dead grass going across my front lawn that I know I'm going to have to re-seed. (Maybe I'll get lucky and the grass will fill itself in.)

Well, the problem may have solved itself this afternoon, thanks to my two young dogs. For months the two of them have been obsessed with diggin in my yard. Something that I just chalked up to puppies being mischevious; although I was quite sure that Roxie (our Yorkie) was also getting the scent of the mole as well, and that was spurring her to dig more than usual.

As spring waned, and summer fell upon us, I noticed that the dogs were digging much less than had become usual. Bare spots that they had torn in my yeard were filling full of new grass growth, and they weren't tracking the dirt and mud that they had been. But as the mole trails became more prevelant, I noticed that the dogs were rooting more and more into the dirt, and had actually dug a few small holes near the back fence line.

Today, the two of them dug two new holes. Three feet apart from one another, and on opposite ends of a mole burrow hole. I'm not sure which one struck it rich (I'm thinking that it was Roxie, although the size of the hole screams Buddy), but one of the dogs came up with a mole in its mouth and killed it.

Karen noticed that the dogs were barking much more than usual while playing outside. She was afraid that they might be barking at Mr. Posadas next door, so she opened the door to call them back in. That's when she noticed that Roxie had something gray and furry in her mouth, and Buddy was barking at her. She screamed at them to drop it and come inside; which I'm told that they did quite reluctantly. The dogs were making such a commotion over the dead rodent that I had to come home from work an hour early to dispose of the thing.

The thing had dark grey, almost black, fur; and was the size and weight of a full can of soda. It was the first time that I had ever seen one up close, so as I scooped it up into a pan to dispose of it, I took a while to examine it. The paws and claws on this thing were easily as big as my thumb, and paler than my own skin complection. It's eyes were closed, and no sign of trauma could be found other than the fact that its neck was limp; indicating to me that which ever dog had caught it had given it a thorough thrashing back and forth, and had probably flung it against the ground a time or two.

I'm hoping that this takes care of the mole problem, and that there isn't some kind of colony living in my yard. If that's the case, then I'm going to have to invest in some "mole movers" and possibly some sort of poison to bait the trails with.

Writer's Block: Mentor Me

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 18:46:26 GMT

Have you ever had a mentor or other influential person in your life who helped you along a certain path in school, work, or life in general?

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I have had several persons in my life that i considered to be mentors of a sort. Mentors in academics and mentors in spiritual matters come to mind most readily.

When I was a sophomore in highschool, I had reached a point in life where I really did not care about academics much at all. Going to school had become a daily routine, where I did just enough to get by with passing and acceptable grades. On many occasions I found the work load to be easy and boring, most of my grades were based upon good test scores, yet hampered and dragged down by homework scores. Scores that reflected the fact that I rarely did the full measure of homework required.

That attitude got an adjustment when I walked into my Biology I classroom and met Mrs. Arby Barton. A cranky old (and I mean she was at least 63 to 65 by the time that I had her class) fart who taught school simply because she loved teaching and trying to get through to her young students. She was independently wealthy. A widow of a former NFL football quarterback to the Chicago Bears. And teaching was just extra income and a means to stay active a busy. But she truly had a passion to reach out to students and to make them find a challenge to learn.

Mrs. Barton started off the first day of class by repeating her student mantra: "I am here today to make you think. T - H - I - N - K, think. Not just memorize a bunch of facts and information to spit back at me, but to truly learn, and to examine the way that you are learning the things that are presented to you. Learning does not only come from a text book. By the time that you read any text book in school, that information is already outdated and new things are out there to learn about. So find ways to learn them." Her class was hard, but fair; and it was actually fun enough and challenging enough that I enjoyed it. It changed the way that I looked at school. Sure, there were still classes that bored me and seemed like a waste of my time, but the classes that I was interested in I did well in. For the rest of that year, and the remainder of highschool, I focused on the science classes that were available to me. Advanced Biology, Chemistry, Health, Flor and Fauna of the Mid West, and Aeronautics Studies. I still stunk at math, but I learned enough to do well in my other courses; making my way all the way through Geomety with a high grade and Algebra II. The guidance councelors wanted me to take Calculus in my senior year, but I opted out: going for College level English and Literature instead.

A lazy Saturday...

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 05:46:52 GMT

... just what the doctor ordered. Right ! ? ! .

Other than cleaning up the basement family room, and picking up a bunch of the disaster area of a mess in Jack's room (although it is far from clean), I really have not done much of anything today. Just the way a Lazy Saturday should be.

Karen and I slept until around 10 AM this morning. Of course the kids were already up and watching TV, not to mention getting into the fridge and pantry to get fruit snacks and string cheese sticks. I think that Delaney had busted out a poptart as well. Normally, one of us (most likely Karen) would have been up to fix them a proper breakfast (at least have given them the poptarts and maybe some doughnuts), but neither child came in to get us up like they usually do. Unless we managed to sleep though a kid standing at the side of the bed calling for us to get up. Not likely. They're quite adept at waking us up when they want to.

On another topic: For the first time in about a week, I haven't been under the constant urge to OD on my meds, and am not currently feeling such an intense sense of dread and despair that I feel physically ill. I'm still depressed. I'm still having bad dreams and mild panick attacks, but the "bad" thoughts seem to have subsided a bit for the moment. I guess that I've just been under too much stress for my meds to do their job. I mean, meds can only do so much; the rest is up to me. I just not been doing as good of a job at it myself. I think the meds have been carrying me through as best as they could. A part of me wishes that I had something stronger; but then something stronger would knock me out and make me groggier then what my current meds are already making me every day.

Jack has a nasty rash.

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 21:11:27 GMT

On Thursday evening, or early Friday morning, Jack came into contact with something in our back yard that had caused a really bad rash to begin spreading all over his left ear, back around his neck, and onto his face. His ear had gotten so bad that it had crusted over with a clear bumpy scab like substance. To me it looked like poison ivy and I began treating it as such.

Since Friday night the rash has continued to spread down his chest and onto his stomach. Last night, we even noticed bumps appearing on his arms and wrists. The areas around his neck and face are becomming more enflamed and raised.

This morning, Jo Ann (G-Ma Jo) offered to take him to the doctor to get the rash looked at. I thought that this was an excellent idea, and had figured that I would be taking him on my day off tomorrow; but since this thing is spreading across his face and around his eyes, I figured the earlier that we could get him in to see the doctor the better off he would be. I had been wishing all weekend that we could take him. Karen and I had considered taking him to the ER, but the rash didn't seem to warrant that urgent of a response. At least not at the time.

I'm hoping that this is simply a case of poison ivy, and that we will get a prescription for some stonger creme to apply to his skin and maybe a prednisone prescription for him to take to help his body to fight the rash. I'm going to meet Jo Ann and the kids up at the doctor's office at 1:20 PM, so I'll update later on what the results are.

UPDATE: It turns out that it is just poison ivy, or one of the similar types of plant (poison oak, etc...). Jack is having a hypersensitive allergic reaction to it, and the spots that are appearing on his body now are just areas that were previously exposed but the immune system's response to the poison ivy is just now failing an allowing to show through.

The doctory put in a prescription of prednisone tablets, which he will disolve under the tongue for the next 6 to 10 days or so; and we are to continue use of the hydrocortisone cream that we have been using. She recommended that we even give him some vinegar baths with a cotton ball across the affected areas to help dry them out and reduce the itching. She mentioned that his ear has dried out to the point that it needs constant application of the hydrocortisone and maybe even some vaseline salve to keep the skin from cracking and getting infected.

Wild child tuckers out

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 02:47:44 GMT

Proof that there are quiet moments in our house. LOL.

After a hard day's worth of playing on the park playground, at Delaney's 3rd birthday party, Jack tried to sit down on the couch to watch some cartoons while Delaney took a snooze in her bed. At five years old, he's getting to the point where he tries to prove that he's big enough that he doesn't need a nap anymore. (When he gets to about 30, he'll suddenly change his mind and decide he wants one again.)

He helped himself to one of the iced down coolers, popped open a can of Sierra Mist, and sat back to relax with the Bomerang channel on the tube. Less than five minutes, and two sips later, he too was snoozing in dream land. Propped up in the foam chair on top of the cushion, his legs kept wanting to stretch out, and he would jerk his legs as he curled back into position in the chair. It was quite the sight to see, but he was so content that we hated to move him and risk waking him back up just to put him in bed.

Jack looked so cute and innocent that we just had to take a picture. The lighting didn't quite com out right, so after some manipulation in a photo editor program, I decided that this would look really great as a black and white shot; so I stripped the color out of it.

Writer's Block: Venting

Sat, 30 May 2009 03:01:35 GMT

What's the most annoying thing that happened to you this week?

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Just the other night, I managed to wind down my brain and go to bed early. I thought that I was going to get a long restful night's sleep. I mean, not just a 6 to 8 hours of sleep, but 9 and a half hours worth of pillow time. Karen came to bed a few hours later at around 1 or 1:30 AM, and I rolled over to continue my sweet slumber.

At 4:13 AM I awoke to the sound of Delaney crying. She was thirsty and wanted some more grape drink in her sippy cup. I got her some more to drink and changed her diaper so that she would be able to sleep the rest of the night through without waking me or her mother. After closing her door and walking back in to mine and Karen's bedroom, it occurred to me that i could not hear Karen breathing. Even at her best, Karen usually sounds like a cat purring when she is sleeping on her left side. I slowly tip-toed over to her side of the bed and knelt down close to her face. I almost burst out with a giggle as I thought about how startled we would both be should she wake up at that very moment. She would scream out, and the shock of the sudden shout would cause me to screm back. And then I thought about the fact that I would probably wet myself since I suddenly needed to pee so bad. Down close, I could hear Karen quietly breathing, so I turned and headed off to the bathroom.

After doing my business, I knew that I still felt groggy enough that I would nearly fall right back to sleep after getting back into bed. I slowly lowered myself down onto my side of the bed and rolled myself onto my right side (facing away from Karen and the middle of the bed). No sooner had I pulled the covers up over my shoulder then Karen rolled all the way over onto her right side. I knew what was coming next, but I was hoping against all odds that I would be wrong. She settled down and stopped moving, and then almost on cue... at 4:32 in the morning, a freight train started rolling straight down the center of the bed, right behind me. I mean she was in full force snore mode. I knew that there was no way that I would be able to fall back to sleep with that going on.

I rolled over onto my left side. Making as much comotion, and shaking the bed, as much as possible, short of jumping up and down. Nothing. Just more snoring. I pulled her covers off of her thinking that it might get her to pull them back up and roll over. Nothing. Just more snoring. I wedged my knee under the body pillow that she was snuggled up onto, and nudged her more than just several times in hopes that she would startle awake just enough to roll over. She stopped snoring for just a few seconds and then... just more snoring.

By this point I was fully awake. Even if I could have gotten her to roll over and to stop snoring, it would take me quite a while to fall back to sleep. Still, it was only 10 minutes til 5 AM, and I still had the chance to get another 2 and a half hours of sleep (or so) should I manage to get the snoring to stop. But nothing worked. The snoring (much louder than usual) continued until a little after 6 Am; when she finally rolled over. I remember staring at the clock. 6:10 AM... 6:25 AM.... 6:38 AM.... The covers were warm up around my shoulders, and all was relatively quiet. Quiet enough that I had finally fallen back to sleep.

!!BEEP!! !!BEEP!! !!BEEP!!...........
I startled awake, stared at the clock and as my blurred vision focused enough to read the red numbers on the clock's face I realized that the alarm going off wasn't mine. My alarm was set to go off a full hour later. An hour that I could have slept and rested through. No... it was 7:01 by my clock and Karen's alarm was going off. I half sobbed and half laughed as I pulled the covers up over my head. Karen reached over and hit her snooze button. I started to think that there was no way for me to doze back off; not if her alarm was going to be going off every 9 minutes for the next who knows how long. But she reached back over and just shut it off and rolled over onto her back. That almost upset me more. Was she really going to go back to sleep? (Karen can wake up and fall back to sleep almost as fast as most people sneeze.) Just go back to sleep after having her alarm go off at 7 Am in the morning for no apparent reason. O heck no.

I raised up on my elbow and stared straight at her face. She opened her eyes and met my glare. "What?" she asked. "Nothing," I replied. I just plopped myself back down onto my pillow and burried my face under the quilt. A minute later, Karen got up out of bed and started her day. I tried to roll back over and catch a little bit of snooze time, but it was no use. I eventually gave up and got up out of bed. Tired and in need of some more sleep. The perfect night of sleep that I had hoped to get turned out to be an empty dream.

At the time, I was quite upset about it. But I made it through the day just fine. I had actually gotten enough sleep that as the day wore on I managed to be ok without any real drag to my energy levels. Now, i can look back on it and laugh at the whole situation.

Funny side note: Karen told me that when she had first come to bed that night, she wasn't able to get any sleep because I was snoring so loud and keep ing her up. I guess pay backs are a bitch. LMAO!

Writer's Block: Places to Lay Your Head

Tue, 26 May 2009 21:57:33 GMT

How many different places (cities, houses, apartments, dorm rooms, etc.) have you lived in? Which is your favorite? And your least favorite?

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Number of places that I have actually "lived" in; not just stayed at for a period of time: = 4

My favorite place to have lived: My current house in O'Fallon, MO, with my wife and two children.

The house that I grew up in, until I was nearly 13 years old, was 3420 St. Henry Ln. in Bel-Ridge, MO 63121. A suburb of St. Louis city, in St. Louis County. At that point in my life, right in the middle of 7th grade, we moved out to St. Peters, MO in St. Charles County (actually still an outlying suburb of the Greater St. Louis Metropolitan Area. It was far enough different from where I had been living, that it felt like my parents had moved me out to the sticks; even though it was still a suburban area. Our subdivision was relatively new, our house having been built less than 4 years earlier in 1980, and there were only a handful of trees on our entire block. All under 10 to 15 feet tall. At least the lots all had grass, but Pop and I actually planted all but one of the trees that was onour property; and these were just barel taller than Dad and I.

I lived in that house in St. Peters (Mom still lives there now) from December 9th, 1983 until I left for the Army in August of 1990. I don't really count living anywhere while in the Army as having lived there, since I rarely saw anything off of base.

After returning from the military, I moved back into the house in St. Peters while I attended Community College and then began my Junior and Senior years in college at the University of MO at St. Louis. I moved back out of my parents' house on June 1st, 1996 when I moved into a condo that I had bought with my first wife out in Lake St. Louis, MO (another 10 miles West outside of St. Louis County, and further out along Hwy 70 in St. Chales County.).
My first wife and I lived at 82 Lemans Ct., Lake St. Louis, MO 63367. I lived there from June 1st, 1996 through December 27th, 1999; and left after my ex-wife and I had separated earlier that fall and decided that after the Christmas holiday (which we spent with family and friends as if nothing were wrong. All a fake front for her family.) I would go my way and she would stay in the condo while we decided further as to whether we could work it out or not. (not)

After the split from my ex, I moved back to my parent's house in St. Peters and started from scratch. I began looking for room mates to find an apartment, but I soon met this really sweet young girl named Karen; who consumed most of my time not spent on smy college studies (which I was doing part time in evening college). When it became evident that I would be spending the rest of my life with this young nubile lady, I put my monetary efforts into our future life together, and a new car. Karen and I closed on our home on the North side of O'Fallon (half way in between St. Peters and my former Lake St. Louis home) in December of 2002, and were married on March 8th, 2003. And this, is where I have been ever since. [ 3 bedrooms, a bath and a half, living room and kitchen upstairs. Office space, family room, laundry, and a full storage room dowstairs. 2 car oversized garage. Large deck out of the upstairs sliding glass doors, and a concrete patio outside of the basement sliding glass doors. A very large back yard and spacious front lawn.]
It isn't a new house, and it isn't as spacious as I would like it to be for our growing family (especially Delaney's room), but it is just fine for us to grow together in. Who knows, maybe in about 10 years or so down the road, we might come into some extra cash flow and be able to afford a bigger place. At least a larger 3rd bedroom for Delaney to sleep in. My princess will need her space. LOL

It's doing it again

Fri, 22 May 2009 20:05:56 GMT

The lower body numbness that I was experiencing on Tuesday is back again, but this time it also seems to be affecting my hands (making typing quite difficult at times) as well and I'm having slight dizzy spells along with it.

When it happened on Tuesday, I assumed that it was the beginning symptoms of a hypo manic episode. I was feeling giddy, and people kept telling me to slow down when I was talking; so it made sense.

Today, I am not in the slightest bit manic, and it is worrying me. I feel as if I am drugged and drunk at the same time.

My legs and feet are numb. Not tingly, as if they have fallen asleep, but just numb. Almost as if they weren't there, or were full of a local anesthetic. My hands and wrists are numb in the sense that they don't want to work right. Almost like when you have had your hands..... (lightbulb moment) yeah. that's it!

My hands and feet are numb as if they have been in ice cold water for an extended period of time. Like when you go wading out into a river that is very cold and after standing there for a while your skin begins to go numb to the touch both from the coldness of the water and because of the rush of water passing over your skin.

That gives definition to the way that my legs and hands feel; but how to describe the way that my head and mind feel right now. They're numb too, but in a different sort of way. Clouded. Light headed. Drunk. I guess that's the best way to sum up the way that my head feels. Light headed and intoxicated. Almost to the point that I'm afraid to drive home from work this evening as if I were actually intoxicated.

I'm so perplexed. What could be causing all of this? Am I manic? Hypo manic? Having a stroke? or what?

I've become a shadow

Mon, 18 May 2009 04:23:56 GMT

I feel as if i have lost my own identity, to the point where I don't even believe that I know who I am any more; or even who I want to be.I have become a shadow to the rest of the world around me, and even of my own self, to the point that I am at the cusp of an identity crisis.

I am a shadow of my own self:

I feel as if I am no longer living up to the level of person that I see myself as having once been in the past; as if my best days are behind me and I'm wondering what is left ahead of me.
I've reached a mile marker in my life where I realize that I have no goals to shoot for, and no dreams left to hope for. My visions of yet better days to come have been blinded by the fact that i can rarely fathom what is beyond the next day, or even week, much less as what to look forward to in the weeks, months or years from now; and when I do catch a glimpse of the future, my "glass is nearly empty" outlook on life clouds all but the things to give cause to worry about.

I'm continuously disgusted with myself. All I have become is a fatter, lazier version of my former self; who has lost the ability (or maybe the will) to dream and hope. My mind betrays me as my memories blur and become increasingly difficult to recall when I want or need them. My body rejects me as I feel new aches and pains each year. Of course it doesn't help that I'm more out of shape now than I have ever been in my entire life. I desperately need to start working out and lose about 30 pounds. I fear that if I don't, that I won't be around to sit here and complain about it within just another few years. (If any one wants to buy me a membership to the gym, and find someone to go along with, I'm desperate enough to give it a shot.) Every day that I let myself stay above 200 pounds is another day where I have bought a lottery ticket towards a heart attack or type II diabetes. I'm already developing aches and pains in my knees, and have been enduring the pain of a heel spur in my left foot.

I have become a shadow to the world around me:

My life, my job, my social life,... has gotten to the point that I am like back ground noise surrounding the true conversation taking place in life. You know it's there, but you're not going to stop your conversation in order to find out what it is or what's making the sound. And, if it stopped, or changed in the way it sounded, you'd probably not really notice and would continue talking anyway.

I've always been a very low key individual. Outside of my mania or alcohol induced social outbursts of behaviour, I'm the kind of guy that doesn't really like to draw a lot of extra attention to myself. But At the same time, I've always thought of myself kind of like the musical score of a movie. You may not be consciously thinking about what song is playing at any specific moment, but should the music stop you'd definitley know that it wasn't there and would feel as if something was missing. I no longer feel that way any longer. It's as if the music has stopped, and now I'm just the awkward dead air that is taking up space on the sound track in between songs.

Writer's Block: Dream On

Wed, 13 May 2009 21:19:24 GMT

Do you ever have recurring dreams? If so, are they good dreams or nightmares?

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I have several recurring dreams on a fairly regular basis; mostly good, but a few that I prefer not to have and often wake up from a very fitful sleep when I have them.

Occasionally, I have what I refer to as "oogie" dreams. An oogie dream is one that I have over and over for a period of at least three days to a couple of weeks (not necessarily every night) in which something bad happens to someone close to me. The weird thing is that in about 40% of the cases, something similar to what i am dreaming actually happens to the person that I am dreaming about.

For example: Quite a few years back, I kept having this dream that Karen was in a vehicle with several other ladies. The strange thing was that I couldn't see all of the faces of the other ladies, and knew that this meant that these were people that I knew, and was acquainted with, but were not close personal friends or family of mine.

In the dream they were all laughing and joking around, and talking about the things that they had planned and the fun that was to come. With very little warning, a car coming from the opposite direction cut across all lanes of traffic and hit the vehicle that Karen was riding in.

Several weeks after I began having this "oogie" dream, Karen informed me that she would be taking a trip to Tunica, Mississippi with the girls from her work for a fun filled weekend at the casinos and nightclubs. The potential for the oogie dream to come true had presented itself, and I shared my dream with Karen; asking her to take extra caution along the way to her destination and back home. For the last three nights before the trip, I began to have the dream more frequently, even multiple times each night. Now that I knew the identities of the other ladies in the car, the dream began to take on more vivid detail instead of just random images and generalities. I shared these details with Karen, who actually seem ed to be taking my warnings somewhat seriously.

Karen later called me to tell me of an incident that took place on their trip. The scene within my dream actually occurred almost exactly as I had described it, right down to the man driving the other vehichle and type of vehichle (although a different color if I remember it right). Fortunately, no one was hurt and the trip went off without any other incidents. Karen shared the details of my dream with her coworkers, and they were shocked at the similarities in what I had envisioned in my nightmare and what had actually just taken place.

I've had "oogie" dreams periodically throughout my life ever since about the age of 12 or 13 (puberty). They aren't frequent by any nature, and often difficult to decipher, as the images are often vague at first and then becoming more detailed as the dream repeats itself over time. I count any dream that I have more than 3 to 4 times as a potential oogie dream. Then again, I sometimes disqualify many dreams that seem to be "oogie" dreams but are really just heightened awareness of real life events that I might not be consciously choosing to acknowledge.

Like dreams that I had about Dad dieing. In my conscious waking moments, I knew that Dad was sick. Those realizations played out in my dreams. My dreams told me that Dad would not die of cancer, and I took that as a sign that he was going to beat the cancer; yet I kept having the dream that we were going to bury him near a major holiday (I kept dreaming 4th of July, and it ended up being Mother's Day). I was not prepared to lose my father to stomach and intestinal ulcers and tissue death. I was not prepared to lose him at all when he passed away. I had thought the moment in my nightmares to still be years away.

Florida or Bust

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 13:11:43 GMT

Everything is packed and we're ready to go out the door.

The cats are fed and have enough food and water for a whole week. The snake is fed and will be ok until we get back, and we have a house sitter to watch over everything while we are on vacation. She'll feed the dogs too.

Sherrill will be over here later this evening to let the dogs out, and she'll be staying in the house the whole time that we are away.

So.... here I go to go sit in the car for at least the next 10 hours or so until we reach the first leg in our drive to Bonita Springs Florida. We'll be staying in Atlanta, GA tonight. Our hotel will have wi-fi, so I may try to log on and do a quick update. Not sure yet. Depends upon how tired I am, and how stressed out I am from feeling claustrophobic trapped in a car all day long.

See ya. Wish us luck.

Signing off, and shutting down my PC.................................X

Writer's Block: Pet Peeve

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 04:22:26 GMT

What is the most annoying sound in the entire world?

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Listening to another person chewing; whether it be food or chewing gum, I hate listening to another person chew. I'd rather listen to a horse or cow chew oats or hay.

Writer's Block: Taxmen and Poetry

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 17:27:54 GMT

It's Tax Day in the U.S., a day when the mind might be too occupied with deductions and long lines at the post office to think about poetry. But let's try: what's your favorite line of poetry? Song lyrics count.

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BASKET CASE by Green Day:
Do you have the time, To listen to me whine,
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools,
Neurotic to the bone no doubt about it

Sometimes I give myself the creeps,
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me,
It all keeps adding up,
I think I'm cracking up!
Am I just paranoid?
I'm not sure...

I know that Billie Armstrong was writing these lyrics in response to his panic and anxiety attacks, but the first verse and chorus of this song really captures a brief glimpse into the mind of a bipolar patient. In as much, I can really relate.

The other Green Day song that really hits home with me is Boulevard of Broken Dreams. The following stanzas are ones I can identify with for many of the same resons that I identify with Basket Case; their descriptive similarities ot aspects of my bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder is like walking alone in a mind that no one else around you can fully comprehend or empathize with.

BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS by Green Day:
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But It's only me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of broken dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Til then I walk alone

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line of the edge
And where I walk alone

Read between the lines what's
Fucked up and everything's all right
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive
And I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Til then I walk alone

Writer's Block: Gamer's Choice

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 21:37:07 GMT

What is your favorite old-school video game?

Submitted By 2hated2care

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Ok, here's one to take my mind into way-back mode. I guess that first, I need to consider what is meant by "old school." I'm old enough to remember sitting around the living room with my uncle's family and playing PONG on the TV. My very first game system of my very own was the ATARI system; which came with the Street Racer cartridge for the paddles, and the Combat cartridge for joystick. The first game that I actually bought was space invaders.

OK, so here are a few of my favorites:

ATARI: Defender, Yar's Revenge, Empire Strikes Back, and Star Command

Nintendo NES: Rygar, Gauntlet II, Ikari Warriors, Wizards and Warriors,

PC: Starcraft, Warcraft, HalfLife and HalfLife 2, Dawn of War.

Writer's Block: What is your name?

Thu, 09 Apr 2009 22:17:06 GMT

If you were to have another name, what would it be?

Submitted By crazyprotein

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When I was a kid, I used to give this exact question quite a bit of thought. It was not easy being the only person that I knew who had the first name of Dwight.

Sure, there was president Dwight D. Eisenhauer, and the famous evangelist Dwight L. Moody (which are the two men for which I am named); but there weren't any other Dwights amongst my peers. I thought about what it might be like to change my name; especially when someone who didn't know me would make the assumption that the name they were hearing must really be something like Duane or Dwayne, instead of Dwight.

Later on in highschool, I finally began to appreciate my first name for the uniqueness that it had. There must have been a dozen Steve amd Stephens walking down the hall (A name that I actually wanted when I was younger; especially with my middle name being Austin. I wanted to be Steve Austin... the 6 million dollar man), but I always knew that someone specifically wanted my attention if I heard the name Dwight called out.

Writer's Block: Seven Days

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 22:04:46 GMT

Which day of the week do you least look forward to? And which one do you most anticipate?

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I'll start by listing which days I do not look forward to, and why; but I'm not sure that I can just narrow it down to only one single day of the week.

MONDAY: I'm not overly fond of Mondays simply because it is the first day back to the normal grind of the work week. Getting up and going in to work after having two days where there was at least the potential for lounging around, and snoozing when necessary, is not on my list of favorites. However, one redeeming quaility that Mondays now have that they didn't used to have is that I no longer am responsible for the weekly MIS reports that have to be completed at the first part of the week; and, in general, anything that needs to be done on a Monday can usually be partially put off until Tuesday... so Mondays can be eased into and used as a day to plan the important work tasks for the upcomming week.

WEDNESDAY: Wednesday's suck for primarily one reason, and it has nothing to do with being hump day or the middle of the week; but simply because my boss has decided that it is a day when it is necessary to waste my time with meetings that I not only don't have time for, but couldn't care less about. It's the same information that will be regurgitated all over again on Thursday's staff meetings. If they really want to give me a preview, email it to me. Meetings are my biggest pet peeve at work, and also my biggest time waster in as far as it keeps me from more productive functions and tasks.

My favorite day of the week? Some might say that it is Friday; being that it is the end of the work week and also Sci-Fi Friday on TV. I do love kicking back and watching some good TV on Friday night to wrap up the work week. But my all time favorite day of the week is...

SATURDAY: Most weeks, Saturday is the best day of all. It is the light at the end of the tunnel that helps get me through the work week. A day to spend time with family, and sometimes to go out with friends; but one of the most important aspects of Saturday is getting to sleep in and relax.

There are two very critical items to manage when you live your life under the shadow of Bipolar disorder: (1) Keeping stress levels to an absolute minimum, and (2) Getting plenty of sleep. Throw one or both out of balance and it makes managing life very difficult and emotionally painful.

Well, I've never been able to do a whole lot of good in managing stress. It just comes my way no matter what I do. But I can sure do my part in managing how much sleep I get. And recharging on the weekends is crucial to making it through the following week.

I've tried getting extra sleep during the week by going to bed early, but I just end up waking up in the middle of the night, or early morning, stressing out over how much sleep I can still get before my alarm goes off. The only time that I really catch up on sleep is the weekends. Karen is the same way to an extent; she's all go, go, go all week long, and then needs the weekend to recharge as well. I'm trying to get into the habit of swapping days with her. I crash in on one day and she the next, or vice versa.

At the edge of the abyss (VENTING Session)

Sun, 05 Apr 2009 02:16:01 GMT

I normally don't speak of such things here; people tend to get into an uproar, and I don't like the un-needed attention. But I need somewhere to vent and rationalize through the experience that I am going through right now.

I feel as if I am standing at the edge of an abyss, with one foot dangled over the edge, and the other sliding out from underneath of me in the loose rocks at the cliff's edge.

I feel so worthless, so hopeless. I feel as if there is no reason in the world why anyone should, or could, love me. Why should they care? Why sould they care when I can barely care about myself? What is the point of it all? Why go on with our daily routine day in and day out? Why get out of bed at all? Why go to bed, or eat, or shower, or..... Why? Then again, why not. If only I could just sleep it all away until life made sense again. But would it ever truly make sense? Did it ever make sense before? I thought that it did. I have to hold fast to the belief that it can once again. But, for right now.... It doesn't. Nothing seems to make sense. Nothing but my family and my children seem to matter at all. Get up, eat, shit, wash myself, and push forward all because they need me (?)... need..? , well at least expect me to.

I know that this is all of my own doing. Not taking my regular doses of meds for the past two weeks so that I would have enough to make it through until my scripts could get mailed off and filled by Express Scripts. My rationale was that as long as I was taking my meds at at least 2/3 of their full doseages, that it would be much better than running out and not having enough to have any at all in the event that it took too long to get them refilled. Of course, I had to be able to see Dr. Malik on the 2nd in order to get the script written. Since I had new insurance to submit them through, I couldn't simply have her call it in as I have done in the past.

(and to make it worse, I walked into her office on Thursday, told her that everything was going fine, and played myself off to be as normal as any bipolar could be, in order to simply get my meds refilled as quickly as possible without having to worry about changing doseages or adding some unknown new drug to my mixture. what I should be telling her is that I keep bouncing from depressive episode to depressive epiode filled with anxiety attacks and feelings of frustration that lash out at the world around me. But then again, how much of that is as a result of worrying about the economy, not getting raises, pay cuts, and making ends meet in spite of dwindling resources? How much of that is stress from my job, and hoping that I can keep my job through the upcoming months and years? Maybe if these stress factors were not in the equation, I would not be having these problems with the depression and anxiety, and what medication can solve something like that. Meds won't help what is just natural worry, amplified by my bipolar disorder.)

Now, with too little meds in my system (although I have taken them at full strength since Thursday night), I'm in a position where I am mentally hurting at the moment. I am severely depressed, and suffering from panic and anxiety attacks periodically throughout the day and night. I'm not sleeping very well, yet feel so mentally exhausted that I want to do nothing but sleep.

My actions over the past couple of weeks have been deplorable, and I am not happy with myself at all. In fact, the worse I behave, the worse I feel and it has driven me deeper into this depression. Everyone around me is suffering because of me. I just want to crawl under a rock and retire from this world, permanently.

Let me preface the next statement by saying that I am not planning to commit suicide. My family means to much to me to put them through that anguish and pain. I would not want to do something that would scar my children emotionally for the rest of their lives; wondering how daddy could care so little about them as to leave them while they were such small children. It was bad enough that they had to live through the death of Pa Pa Jim (my dad).

That said.... My mind keeps thinking of the many ways that would make it so easy to slip off into oblivion, and almost wondering if it might just all be so much simpler than fighting through the pain and mental torture that I am enduring right now. Mental pain. Emotional pain. And even physical pain.

At the same time, the core essence of my mind wants to fight for every bit of life that the good Lord has appointed for me to live for the rest of my days. To see my children grow up, go to school, graduate highschool, graduate college (or trade school at the very least), get married, and eventually have children of their own.

I want to grow old with my wife, to enjoy one another's company for decades to come. To eventually pay off the house and cars, to retire, and to live the last of our days enjoying the family that we raised.

Deep within the recesses of my logical mind, I know that I have too much to live for to be thinking such dark thoughts as what are running rampant through my mind. And believe me, there are many such dark thoughts, and they are detailed and graphic. I not only have a plan thought out, I have several. But as a long time bipolar, I've had years to think of such irrational ideas; and I haven't used them yet, don't plan to now. I'll not condemn my immortal soul over something that will eventually pass, no matter how unbearable it might seem at the time.

But, in spite of the logical aspect of my mind, that holds onto a thin grip to reality, I can not deny that I am in mental anguish at the moment. I wish that I could go and lock myself away from the rest of the world for a while; while I regain a hold on a better reality. But the reality of the here and now is that I can not take that time away. My family needs me, I need to go to my job, and the normal routine of daily activities and chores must go on as usual. Besides, with the new insurance, I'm not even sure that we could afford for me to go into an inpatient facility... not even if for just a week or so. I just have to pull it together and make it through the here and now.

Karen needs me to be strong and keep it together. She has a lot of important meetings and business trips coming up in the next 6 to 7 weeks (minus our vacation at the end of this month), and I have to be a solid and dependable daddy to my kids. The traveling that she will be doing over this time period will help to make up for money lost in her pay cut. Her job and trips are too important for me to jeopardize by having a melt down at this point.

As I stated in the subject line, this whole entry is just for me to vent and blow off steam. I'm not sure, even as I'm writing it right now, whether or not I will post this one as public or private. As I said, I usually don't speak of such thoughts and emotions openly here. Oh, there are quite a few such posts as this within my journal (although I tend to go back and delete them after a couple of weeks or so), but not publically posted. I think I may leave this one public, though. I think that I need that extra incentive of knowing others are thinking of me, praying for me, and counting on me to pull through this, in order to get me over the hump this time around. I'm not confident in myself to get through this one on my own at the moment. That might all change in a day or two, as my meds kick in back to their full strength. By the way, I think that I had better go count them out in order to see just how many days I actually do have before I run out. If I'm going to run short, maybe Dr. Malik's office can give me some samples or something to help me make it through until my scripts come in the mail.

Oh God, please. I pray... I hope, that Express Scripts gets my meds filled right. I hope that they send me all generics, so that I can afford the meds that they are sending to me. I hope that they fill my lithium with tablets instead of capsules (as requested) so that I can swallow my pills at night. if not, I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't swallow capsules, and I can't afford my medications unless they fill them with generics. Just something more for me to be stressing over.

Oh well, this rant has gone on long enough. I'm not sure that spilling it all out (at least what little I have spilled here) onto this entry has really helped at all. But it has given me a reason to forge ahead, if for no other reason than the fact that I am pledging to anyone that is reading it that I will. I might not be worth much to many people, but i am a man of my word, when I give it.

Writer's Block: Not That Lion and Lamb

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 22:29:54 GMT

As the old saying goes, March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Weather aside, how did March come and go in your life this year?

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March did not hold up to my expectations this year. And, for the most part, I am having difficulty looking at this past month in anything but a "glass half empty" connotation. I take that back. My glass was 3/4 empty, and some bastard I couldn't even catch was drinking the rest.

Things that I had looked forward to all the previous year long never came to be, or I missed them; and other things that used to happen like clock work, every year, weren't there to happen any more.

The only thing I felt that I had to celebrate this past month was that I have had the priveledge to be married to my sweetheart for 6 years.

Other than that, this March pretty much came in like a lame duck, and went out like a drowned one. I'm glad it's finally over. Maybe next year will be better.

Just to name a few of the let downs from March:

No pay raises for either Karen or I

7% Pay cut for Karen

No celebrating Dad's 73rd Birthday.

No celebrating Mom and Dad's 43rd Wedding Anniversary.

Writer's Block: Take Your Chances

Mon, 23 Mar 2009 06:02:07 GMT

Do you think people deserve second chances?

Submitted By drea12301994

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Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?"
Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."

Everyone deserves the chance to be forgiven, if they sincerely seek it. And, in fact, you should forgive even those who don't seek your forgiveness, because holding on to the anger and hatred that comes from holding the debt of sins against another person will slowly eat away at you like a cancer. It's better to forgive (nothing says you have to forget, or to allow yourself to be open to transgression again), and let God and justice hold that person accountable for their actions.

Granted, this is much easier to conceptualize and say than it is to put into practice. I know, I have a bad habit of holding grudges for a very long time.

Forgiving, and forgetting are two different things. I think that you can truly forgive someone and not forget in the sense that you make sure that they do not have the freedom to commit the sin, crime, offense again. If it can't be determined that a person is truly changed as a result of seeking forgiveness and trying to make up for the wrong they have committed, I don't think that it's always necessary to give them a chance to do it again.

I guess it all boils down to the individual and the nature of the offense.

Personal example: After years (decades) of bottlingmy anger within myself, I finally came to a point in my life where I forgave Neal Crase for abusing and molesting me (sexually and mentally) as a child and teenager. I forgave him for his crimes against me, but I never forgot. I did what was within my ability to do to make sure that he never had the opportunity to abuse another young boy again. I made sure that everyone around me knew of his crimes, and let each of them make their decision as to what chances they were willing to let him take with their loved ones.

Second chances? Not always. Forgiveness? Yes. You have to let your heart and mind work together to decide where the line between the two exists; and even then, it sometimes just comes down to gut feeling and hopes that what was done wrong doesn't happen again.