Snowy Owls House

Waking at 3 am with a song in my ear and visions of a fast growing child. In one day grown from newborn to 4 years of age. Hell n wheels. Fearless and constantly chasing after trouble.

Driving through wasted bounty. Crops grown just to be thrown away. all because they weren’t grown for you. It was made for her. In hopes of pleasing her and receiving her attention.

Chaos brings light to the land. Blood flows through me, hot in my veins. Only desire is to feed the beast and keep moving. Stillness is death. But serving her gives purpose through your body and soul.

She calls and I serve.

While I feel I have lived several lifetimes lately I have felt like through my journey I may be facing something different. A change of elevation or status maybe. As this journey in this life comes closer to its end, I think I may be either done with the current cycle of lessons and realize I may be set for a different path. Immediate recognition from beings that are not human. Even as I dream I see myself going through acknowledgment from other very distinct beings. Bows of respect. Greetings of respect. Vaguely suggestive gestures from those of significant stature in the greater existence of our universe. I do not understand why or what the universe is saying but it does make me think that there is something coming I did not see before. Could I be wrong? Of course. I’m mortal and human. We always fall to error. However, I do see something changing. In this instance I am going to follow the bread crumbs and see where they take me.

dont forget to acknowledge the ancestors at all times. sometimes they have something to say to you. They may be upset and frustrated but remember they are there to guide you to something you may have forgotten or ignored.

I had the realization that i became an alcoholic to avoid dealing with my responsibilities. I mean isn’t that why everyone becomes an addict? Things get to be too much, and we find something that helps us forget it for a minute and a minute more. The next thing you’re a full on addict struggling to do anything and blaming the addiction rather than what is the real problem. You. You avoiding what it is you’re afraid to face. What am I avoiding? Feeling. Everything. Always.

Again like a narrative in my head there’s A voice introducing the story of the protagonist. All before memories of all the fucked up things I experienced in my life. Things that when I tell people they say I’m over imaginative And over dramatic etc. I’m crazy. I’m retarded. Yet here I am facing it all again, with more knowledge and an even stronger understanding of why I turn to things that numb my senses.

Maybe being autistic is a scientific way for us to explain the experience of hyper sensitivity to stimulation. What I also know is I experience things that aren’t common with the majority of people around me. I see, hear, remember, sense things that aren’t by others. I help things that need my help, regardless of what it does to me. I’m a healer, or shaman, medicine man, whatever. Many different societies have different names for what I am. I’m a bridge, or a doorway, or better yet a guardian of a door. A watcher of things that have and still have yet to pass. Now trying to be that in a society that forgot how to be in balance with natural forces also labels me as crazy and or mentally ill. Regardless of what it is I have to do, I struggle with living in the “real world” and the real world. More so I feel understanding which is which is where I find my weakness and fall into addiction.

I’m 15 days sober today and the struggle is real.

I’m just a million little pieces. I haven’t been whole in a long time. Each decision I was forced to make tore another piece of me. Choices made for others, there’s another piece. Choices on the playground, pieces of me scattered. Carried away like leaves on the wind. Which one do I call? Who do I see? Pieces torn away again. Told me I was selfish, there goes another piece of me. You scream it’s not your fault but pieces were taken again and again. Everyone wants a piece and leave nothing behind. Pieces and pieces ripped away but I said enough this last peace is mine. 

I have been struggling for years with my mental health. I have withdrawn from social activities almost entirely. Tonight I removed all my socials from my devices. They were meant for me to still keep a connection to people that allowed me a level of comfort at an arms length. The thing is it was no longer comfortable. People who I developed relationships with and loved and respected got so into fighting amongst themselves and I can’t deal with it. It’s like when I was a kid and my parents were too busy trying to make each other look bad rather than focus on me and my brothers. We fell aside. Lost to the bullshit of pettiness between people who were supposed to be the adults. We were an afterthought at best. A father who wouldn’t fight enough for us and an abusive narcissistic mother who would beat us and make us feel less than human.

Here I am now almost 50 years old and I have no relationship with my family anymore. My brothers don’t talk to me. Parents who still think I’m a useless whiny child. I no longer have close friends really. A few I still talk with once in a while but like now. I’m sitting alone in a room writing down how empty I feel inside. How broken and useless I am. Physically unable to even provide basic care for myself on a daily basis. Mentally unable to comprehend why my life has turned into this mess. I won’t blame others. I am an adult and understand that my choices have brought me to this point.

Where do I go from here? Damned if I know. I guess like everything else in my life I just react to whatever comes. No matter what happens though, I know I won’t be prepared. I’ve never learned that lesson. I just continue through life wearing my underwear on the outside of my clothes and toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

Loss is a sobering thing. It causes us to feel less because what we lost has such a gravity that it folds in on itself exponentially like a black hole. The light never quite shimmers the same. You spend so much time trying to keep your head above water that you forget that there’s so much else around you that you need to pay attention to. You evaluate life in a completely different way. Unimportant things that used to be important are now making you scratch your head, asking why was this so important. Never do we consider that we let a part of ourselves disappear with that what was taken from us.

I haven’t been writing much lately. It’s hard to try to put things into words when you don’t understand your own thoughts or feelings. The struggles of seeing things the way I do is it’s easy to fall off the wrong side of the tightrope. The nonstop struggle with reality and sanity intertwined with anxiety and depression, loss of time, confusion, and insomnia. It’s hard to put on the mask and go out to deal with anyone anymore. I always feel like I’m going to break and then everyone will see how poorly I’m doing.

For years I’ve been dealing with chronic illness stemming from mixed connective tissue disease, coupled with my autism spectrum disorder. this is already a lot but now facing the very real future of dealing with Alzheimer’s, and dementia is almost too much to keep calm about. I always knew it was a possibility with it first happening to my maternal grandmother, as well as understanding genetic disorders and comorbidity with other disorders. I would notice things like dropping things or tripping on nothing. Losing things and forgetting things etc. No big deal on their own for sure. Most with autism are notoriously clumsy and accident prone. It really got scary when my youngest brother who share a lot of similarities to me found out last year and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and it was said to be accelerated for his age. Well that sent me over the edge of fear. Not only for my brother and his prognosis but for realization that some things were the same with me.

Back in 2010-2011 I started trying to figure out why my migraines were back so excessive and a neurological scan showed nothing that the doctor could see except she made a comment that stuck with me and caused me to worry. The outer part of the brain was covered in excessive white matter. She said she didn’t know why. Maybe some sort of scar tissue from inflammation and chronic migraines. But I remembered reading how Alzheimer’s starts shutting off the outer parts of the brain as the brain atrophied inward. So all there is to do is get tested. The thing is I can’t afford the doctors appointments let alone the tests that are required, not to mention the dread of the results if it turns out my fears are real.

They say you fight it by healthy living. Eat right. Exercise. But I have other physical problems that prevent the exercise and I always struggle with food. I only eat certain things and when I try to change it, it causes a problem with my day. No it’s not only eating chicken nuggets but I tend to eat things I know and with textures I can tolerate. The autistic behaviours strongly affect my stress levels which in turn affect my autoimmune diseases. So they tend to cycle everything together into a perpetual state of just being unwell all the time. So I spend my time trying to keep my brain active at least. Puzzles, video games, reading, etc. However it takes a hard mental toll to not be able to do the other things like go for a walk or a drive is rare. Most days I can’t bend to dress myself. Everything is loose and easy to slip on. So if I can’t dress myself properly how can I go out to do anything physical?

I’m not writing this to look for sympathy or handouts or anything. I just know that I’m not the only one who struggles daily with life as a disabled person in America. At least my brother and my side of the family live in Canada and don’t have to worry about most of the medical bills, but here the cost of daily medication, doctors visits and worse an emergency room or hospital visit is too much for anyone to handle. So if anything I’m writing this as a statement of how hopeless it feels here and how alone we all feel regardless of how many of us there are.

We try to keep the candle burning but it just feels like it’s flickering out anymore.

I’m different. I’m different than I was yesterday. What was yesterday? What is today? After a while you stop even trying to track it. I mean it’s just one more thing that will trigger that existential dread and the anxiety that comes with it. When I think of the past it’s as far away as the next galaxy. I’m too busy trying to keep my feet under me now to worry about the rest. I don’t recognize myself in pictures anymore. I’m not sure if I will even recognize myself in the mirror. In my mind I’ve never been comfortable with myself physically. It’s just this meat suit I got dealt this time. Who knows what may be next? Is there a next? Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing now? No. I should be sleeping. I don’t sleep much really. It’s probably why I find myself in such a mental state of disarray that I can’t do anything without hurting myself. On a good day I might be able to act like a human being, but lately I just act like lizard running from the predators.

I keep seeing the other ones. The lives before. The parallel ones too. It’s a similar story. Getting dropped into a place. Confused and franticly trying to get your bearings. Piecing together something. You don’t know what, but it’s like carving sand. Over a very short time the thing you’re doing left a trail that is disappearing to the elements and time. For a brief time though, you have something that passes for a recognizable existence. A life. Brief and ever changing as it is, but there you have it. A place where the chaos may form around you to a modicum of your understanding.

Now here it is. The sun coming up on a new day. I’m tired and hungry. I know I had bites of something previously but that was 12 hours ago. My fingers are cold and sore. Ultimately there’s 2 choices I can make. Well to say more precisely, they’re all I can think of with my sleep deprived mind. I can give up on laying here attempting at a chance to sleep, to go make something to eat and have a cup of coffee or something. Or I can lay here and pull the blankets over my head to hide from the now rising sun and warm up and continue to chase sleep. The decision isn’t easy and will honestly keep me in limbo unable to choose for at least another hour. What will happen then?

Two men in battle. They posture and make speeches either understand. They both stand alone. Only the shy and earth to witness their battle. The fear of the unknown of the other feeds the strength of their wills to live. The battle pursues while they fight for their lives. One stands covered in blood while the other lies now still covered in blood. The one that stands now carries the weight of his victory and all the weight of what he has done pulls hm to the depth of his guilt. Nobody wins. There is only those who stand and ones who no longer do. There is no renewed strength or peace. Only the weight of carrying two lives now being carried by one.