I just noticed that one of the blogs I follow re: bipolar, has shut down. Lack of comments and dissatisfaction at not engaging people in an active dialog. I have the same feelings after less than a month. I didn't really expect much more but I always hold out hope. I get on this computer as much to get salvation somehow as I do for work. It is mostly an internet terminal more than anything else. That's why I don't replace it with one with a better display.
I always write as if someone is going to read this. It, like most blogs, is an online journal, of interest only to me. The occasional rant seems to help temporarily and it also helps my spelling skills. As if any of that is going to do any good.
I went to an award winning blog, Cutesy British Blogger, a british writer with a smarmy (she used the phrase, "with a naughty wink" and I about puked. She writes of all the usual bipolar stuff but with a talky, conversational tone and paragraphs of cutsey prose. I am simply not that talented, or at least, not that kind of writer. I know it's not Kosher, but while reading them, it helps if I think of her as a slob, wandering around the house in her pajamas all day.
It was pointed out once, about both my brother and me, that although we are funny, cynical, wisecracking guys, we do serious projects and rarely reflect that off-the-cuff, spontaneous humor in our work.
My sculpture assemblages are whimsical and a bit dark, which does incorporate some semblance of that inflection but I hardly do them anymore.
Don't know quite why that is. Oh, yes I do, I don't have any raw material, or a decent work bench that isn't in with my office and on and on.
Really depressed this morning. Maybe Monday as the weekend was pretty productive. Forgot my meds Sunday and by 4 o-clock everything tasted bad. Tried gin and tonic and some icy vodka but all tasted terrible. This could be a useful impression to fall back on while trying to drink less. I think it disturbs my sleep and leaves me depressed in the mornings.
Well, off to dog training, which is also depressing as the dogs incorporate the tasks but don't use them in everyday situations. That is, they come when called for a treat, but don't bother when there is something better, like some piss on the ground or another dog around.
I wish someone or something would come along and save me. Can't stand this but seem to anyway because I can't stand the thought of the hole I would leave my family if I committed suicide.
All's as well as possible under the circumstances.
My spelling is better today.
here's the dog guy.