It's exhausting to always try and be one step ahead of the illness so that I can prevent it.  Perhaps I should let that one person and his recommendation of cognitive behavioural theray go; and just accept that this episodic illness will continue to come. And that I only have to recognize it when it does, and take the steps to deal with it at that time.  

I went crazy for nearly eight months. By crazy I mean I believed in something that wasn’t real. I fought though, fought to get paid work, fought for changes I believed had to happen. But instead of fighting for changes that were a reality, I fought for things that didn’t exist and when I applied for work I no longer filled in the application form in the normal manner. What I believed was happening to me took precedence. That’s when you know you’ve been crazy. You know all you were fighting for wasn’t worth the effort. The effort of fighting for what isn’t a reality is merely a destructive action. I wrote things on footpaths and I put stickers on posts around the place, saying things against pirating of DNA and use of human body information in microchips. Now I know experiments exist in the world that do use DNA and microchips and if you ask me whether I still disapprove of it, I’d have to say not to the extent I did. For I created a world of dangerous nanotechnology where my DNA was being used illegally in microchips. There were other people who were also being used and the threat to them was as much as it was to me. The difference between me and most people is that I’d had an operation while going for surgery to have my wisdom teeth removed and during that operation samples of my body energy were taken in the form of frequencies. Those brainwave frequencies that recognised say a needle going into my skin were then overlapped with instructions of various kinds. It was an experiment gone wrong, because it meant I was made aware of what was going on in the field of DNA and microchipping before I looked it up on the net. If I’d been sane at the time I would’ve thought the idea to be fodda for a science-fiction novel or two, but alas I went into the idea like it was non-fiction, in other words I went crazy. I suppose there are people who go on alcoholic benders for eight months. I haven’t ever done that. Closest I got to going on a bender was when I smoked marijuana at age twenty-four and imagined I was having a great time when things were actually quite rotten. Subsequently after that bender I started hearing voices and having tactile hallucinations. So I don’t think marijuana is a harmless drug, particularly if you get addicted and smoke it nearly every day. My days of experimenting with mind altering drugs are over. I’ve had enough mind altering experiences for a life-time and while a few of them have been fun, they’ve been a disaster for my career. People just can’t trust a person that goes crazy. Well, it’s not easy to trust them. Or they can be periodically trusted. Which is a terrible thing for me to admit because it means that my skills are untrustworthy. There are people who believe in things that aren’t real that aren’t exactly crazy, because that’s perception then. For instance people can be duped by a confidence trickster, they can be duped by a cult or religion as much as they can be duped into studying something because they believe there is a career in it and that falsely inflates whatever is being studied into becoming important. There are ways like that people can be lead astray. But at least they are duped alongside other people, at least what they’ve imagined to be true was a shared experience and therefore not quite as crazy as making up a whole belief system yourself then getting lost in it so far that reality isn’t where the sense is anymore. I’ve had several episodes where the craziness has lasted months. I think there was a period where it lasted years even, but when I’m sane and sensible again I look back and just wonder what the hell my mind was thinking. Perhaps that’s why it’s called losing your mind. The part of the brain that minds what you think loses the plot of reality and becomes focused on what should only be experienced as a reality while fast asleep. I hope I never go crazy again, or if I do, I hope it is for such a short time that I don’t do anything like apply for a job during that time. Jobs for people who believe in crazy things are not readily available.

Online shopping is one of the popular places to find cheap reefer coats yet beautiful finds. Various color choices and styles are available for men, women, and even children.

It all started with six months sober, and four months of a depression I can't even begin to explain. The walls crowding around me, my skin tearing from the tendens. A bash of rashing emotions, something I'd equal to a flash fload, only lasting months at a time and talking to you. Like, little devilish green men inside your brain telling you to off yourself for no "appearent" reason, except that it's really the only way. Fuck that. Logically I am intelligent, not always brilliant, whitty, well written, or even well put together.. But I can't care about those things in bouts like these.

I really want to cut my hair, and I am going to. I'm just going to do and not worry that the state of my hair affects me too much or that I'm afraid of femininity or intimacy or whatever.

some photos that a friend took of my book at Kona Stories Book Store

 

and at Kaya's coffee shop.. Aloha, Cindy