01 December 2015

To Blog Or Not To Whine Like a Baby

Bunks-Desktop-005First things first. Yes, I realize it's been over a year. It's not like my inbox was flooded with 'Where are you?"  or  "We miss your funny little stories!" or "Please, we have been enjoying watching as you slowly go insane!" emails. So, this post will be going out across all my blogs, just in case you see numerous duplicates of it popping up here and there and that goes for all three of you..or is it five? Look, I know I posted somewhere that I was done posting…or ‘whining’ about my chronic pain and all that is dragged along with it like so many bent and rusty tin cans tied to the bumper of a wedding carriage that derailed and has been lying in a ditch somewhere, the corpses long ago feasted upon by zombie-squirrels. But things change. In all actually, THIS may be my last post. Or not.

I don’t know where to turn when you’re sent to a psychologist who ends up telling you , for three consecutive sessions, how hard of a time HE is having adjusting to life in the south, unfriendly neighbors, and a boss that just doesn’t get him. (All the while, you’re unable to get comfortable in a leather chair that Winston Churchill would have adopted as the son he never had, and you have enough opiates swimming through you to down a football team for a weekend because nothing is cutting through the pain.) So, I’ve come back here. Come ‘home’ as they might say, though they say ‘you never can go home, again’ or is it Paul Simon singing ‘Gee, but it’s great to be back home”? Right. Cause ‘home is where I oughta be’.

One reason I stopped blogging is everything I mentioned above and a few more items to boot that I forgot to mention. Another reason is that when I sit down to type, it all seems so surreal in my head…unbelievable, impossible, and I start thinking I just sound delusional. But that thought changed when I saw a CNN documentary about Whitey Bulger (which was excellent, by the way, and worth watching) and I thought…”You can’t make this shit up!” Now I know where they get the ideas for all those twisted movies like “The Departed” where you don’t know who is ratting on who and which guy is the good guy or not. No one mind could be twisted enough to keep track of all the turns and names and places and so on and make it all make sense in the end and be making it all up. I keep forgetting, every time I am scooping my jaw back up off the floor,  I shouldn’t be scooping my jaw back up off the floor! I shouldn’t be so surprised! After all I have been through I should expect the kind of things that keep happening.

Which leads me to the ninth reason I stopped blogging. I recall that some part of me, somewhere along the way, DID come to the understanding that I should expect these things because when all is said and done, I deserved them to happen. I just never knew why. But I think I am getting a handle on it. Especially when I really start listening to the whackos that I am told I am supposed to listen to if I want to get well, feel well, be well, sea shell, Orson Wells……. In the end, we are supposed to leave everything we touch better than when we first came in contact with it. That’s why I am so miserable. I haven’t done that and half of these people who are supposed to be helping me haven’t and aren’t and won’t either.

The proof of this comes in the form of complete strangers, who (for whatever reason) have gone out of their way to try and make my life better. People that don’t know me. People I have never met and probably never will. People I have met online while gaming or doing graphics…and yes, even blogging. Which makes it all the much more difficult to blog or do anything online. I’m afraid I may lose the few friends or acquaintances I have online if I keep spilling my guts. I might let them down or worse, I might attract more who I can also potentially let down and I have let some down already (you KNOW who you are).

I could go around like this forever. I really could. But to what end? meh. Truth be told, I have come in contact with one blogger/podcaster who has convinced me that I need to blog..in fact…even encouraged me to podcast…about my dreams and nightmares, my feelings, and a lot of other stuff that I will touch on later. In the meantime, you can either buckle up your seat belts and get ready for the ride or you can jump out now before it gets a rockin’. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. It only appears that I am at the drivers seat but trust me, the steering wheel has a loose nut behind it, the brakes are squishy at best, and it’s all down hill from here with more twists and turns than a bad M. Night Shyamalan script.

Cross your fingers and knock on wood that I have enough spoons to do this.


  1. Noah, I for one have missed you!

    Psychologists, ahhhhh.

    Not everyone is the right fit. Like puzzle pieces. That one is not for you, ditch him and find someone else. Shopping around in this case is not a bad thing. I know this from experience, my friend. Years ago (talking 20+) I had a total breakdown and the guy I was sent to made me want to jump off the nearest bridge and finish the job! Luckily for me, a friend told me to find another one, and it took a couple of tries, but found one that really listened and helped me get my footings again.

    The mere fact that you are still here, and still have your sense of humour, inspite of the insidiousness of chronic pain, tells me of your strength. I am seeding out positive thoughts , prayers and energy to you. And, Noah; Feel free to talk my ear off - you have my addy - when ever you need it.

  2. Yayyyyyyyyyyyyy for you Noah!!! Seat belts on and buckled! Just wondering what spoons have to do with anything!