Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Starry Starry Night.



Sometimes I wonder if the reason my life hasn't been going so well is entirely my fault. I'd like to think I'm a good person and that I treat people the way I'd like to be treated but I know I'm not perfect. There have been times in the last few years when really bad things have happened to me and I didn't react in the best way. The choices I made, even well thought out, have lead me to where I am right now. I think back and wonder if I should have made different choices. It's really hard to know what road I should take, especially if one suffers from a mental illness. Now I'm pretty much alone with my thoughts and those thoughts have been of mainly confusion and tremendous anxiety. My medication can only do so much and I suppose I should just attempt to be a stronger person, if that's possible. As I sit here alone in my apartment, I can't sleep. I wish I had someone that I could talk to and get a lot off my chest but I'm so by myself right now. I need a lifeline or someone to come tell me that everything is going to be okay. How is it that I've come to this place? Did I make the wrong choices? Is it too late to get it right, for once?





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Monday, May 11, 2015

Gimmie Shelter.






After yesterday, I wanted to get outside today and clear my head but I don't make it a habit of going anywhere, especially of late. The reason I don't get out much is that I get so used to being in doors, the thought of venturing outside makes me nervous. I think the nerves and the anxiety that I suffer from are direct symptoms of my Paranoid Schizophrenia. Plus, my poor excuse for a car is in need of major repairs and I don't like driving it in less there's a good reason. As I drove around in my car, I didn't have any idea where I was headed. And it wasn't like I could drive to my friend's house because a friend is something I don't have at the moment. After spending about a half an hour of driving aimlessly through my neighborhood, I ended up at a local park. I walked around and made my way to the shade of a tree. I sat down and just started thinking about my life and how much I missed my son. It's time like this that I wish I had a friend. As I sat under the tree I picked up my Ipod and decided to write a poem in the notes section. A poem that was rather simple but said a great deal about how I felt at the moment.

"Cool wind blowing in my face.
 Cool wind taking me to my place.
 Easy time,
 No Deadline.
 Going with a friend of mine.
 Until the end of time."
                                        -EAS






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My dying car...







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Sunday, May 10, 2015

Not so happy Mother's Day for me.




(Please excuse the half hazard writing but I had to get this off my chest. It is extremely personal but very important for me to share. I hope no one ever has to go through what I have had to live with for the last few years. I don't care if this gets printed inside every magazine in the word, or even if it goes viral. I want anyone who has been a victim of sexual abuse or assault to know that they are not alone.)


It's that time of year. Yes, at time of year when people all over The United States celebrate mothers everywhere. Only it isn't much of a day of celebration to me and although my reasons are personal, I'd like to share my story. I've hat could change how I felt about her. She was a single mother raising four children on Welfare but we never went without the necessities like food, clothing, and shelter. Sure, we weren't monetarily in a good position but we never felt deprived. My mother married young and by the time I was five, she was married twice and both relationships had ended badly. After that she had a succession of boyfriends that occasionally lived with us but they were out of work losers who spent my mother's money, even though she had very little. One in particular use to swear at me and call me an, "Asshole" because he knew I didn't like him. He also beat me once in front of my mom when I was around thirteen. Grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into my room while he continually kicked me. I couldn't believe my mother would let someone do that to me but that was nothing compared to her third husband. He was a drunk and also used cocaine for recreational purposes, so you know he was a winner. I left my childhood home at an early age because I knew they didn't want me there. It was enough that he had to help support my two younger siblings, so I moved into an apartment by myself. Years later, I moved back in with my mother and my step dad because my illness had got the best of me and I needed to be around people that would help me. I appreciated that they let me live with them but I also paid hundreds of dollars to live there. The truth was that they needed my Social Security Disability money to help pay their bills, so it worked out for them. I was glad not to be alone because when you suffer from Paranoid Schizophrenia it is very difficult to live alone, like I do now. At first living with them wasn't too bad. I stayed in my bedroom most of the time and hardly ventured out. What would happen next could only be described as a nightmare. You see, my step dad started knocking on my bedroom door at night. He would have cookies or candy in his hand and ask me if I would like any? I didn't think anything of it but when I would except his kindness, he would say, "Sweets for the sweet" and leer at me with a perverse smile. I started to feel uncomfortable living with my mom and step dad but they took the majority of my money, so I couldn't really save any to move out. Plus, the thought of living alone scared me and my step dad knew it. Once, when going to the market my step dad started to tell me how he liked his dick sucked. I was horrified by the conversation and the first chance I got, I ran and told my mom that he was making me uncomfortable. Her reaction was peculiar, as if she knew he was capable of doing this to me. She told me that she would talk to him and to go to her if if happened again. Well, it did happen again but it was much worse. My mom was invited by family members to go to Las Vegas, Nevada for the weekend. She would be gone and I would have to stay the entire weekend with my step dad; alone. Months had passed since he had me uncomfortable, so I wasn't worried. It didn't take much time for things to go wrong. He spent the weekend drinking and knocked on my bedroom door and asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with him. Being a film lover, I jumped at the chance to watch a film with someone. I picked an old black and white film and we sat and started to watch. He then told me if I wanted to have a beer and even though I shouldn't drink, I obliged. He didn't seem interested in the film I chose and asked if I had any porno movies. I told him, "No" and he asked if I could drive him to the store to buy some more beer. I didn't want to but he let me drive his truck. It was a brand new truck and he never let anyone drive it but himself, so I jumped at the chance. When we got to the market, he went in and bought more beer, plus dirty magazines and porno dvds. This is something he would never do if my mother was at home and I started to
get nervous. If he drank a lot, who knew how he would act? Well, it didn't take long for me to find out how he would act. You see, I went into my room as he was drinking and he would yell through the house and tell me to check out the dvd he was looking at. Of course, it was a porn dvd and I wasn't interested. He knocked on my door and begged me to watch it with him and I said, "No!" I knew I should stay in my room and I did but I took my medication that was prescribed to me by my doctor and fell asleep. The medication was a drug that would knock me out and help me sleep. It was prescribed to me because of the fact that my illness keeps me from having a good night sleep and it works very well. Then I woke up in the darkness of my room to find that my pants were down and my step dad telling me that it was my turn to suck his dick! I was in shock and horrified! I wanted to kill him and at the same time I knew that if I did hit him, I would end up in jail. I got up and I yelled at him to get out of my room! I didn't know what to do and I was beyond mad and upset. The next day my step dad started walking around in his underwear and flashing his dick at me. He begged me to suck his dick and proclaimed that he would give me a lot of money if I did. I stayed in my room and cried, as I waited for my mom to return home. Then my step dad slipped a picture from one of the dirty magazines he bought of a girl sucking a guys dick. He had circled the picture and wrote in a black marker that he wanted his dick sucked the same way. I just ignored him and I stayed in my room until my mother came home from her vacation. When my mother did return, she was so happy and explained to me that she had so much fun. I couldn't bring myself to tell her what my step dad did, so I kept quiet. The morning before she came home my step dad had sobered up and knocked on my bedroom door. When I opened the door he was on his knees crying and begging me not to say anything. He explained that he was sorry as he continued to cry. He was also smart enough to ask for the picture he slid under the doorway, so he could throw it away and I made the mistake in giving it to him. Months passed and I kept quiet but I felt horrible. I would get in my car and drive around the city crying my eyes out. On one of those drives, I accidentally rear ended a truck. I had to call my mom to have my car towed. When my car finally arrived, it was somewhat drivable but in bad shape. The sad fact is and a continual reminder to what happened to me is I still drive that piece of crap. Yes, that's right, the car I drive is the car that I nearly totaled while driving and crying at the same time. As I sat in my bedroom, my step dad knocked on my bedroom door and said with a perverse leer, "Looks like your stuck with that car." I was so pissed and angry the way he said it to me, so I went straight to my mom and told her everything. I explained to her what my step dad did to me and why I didn't say anything for months. A big reason I said nothing to her is I didn't want her to be hurt. After I told her what my step dad did to me, she went straight to where he was and I suppose he confessed but I wasn't there to see. She came to me and explained that she told him that he couldn't drink anymore and if he did, she would tell his son from a prior marriage what he did. My step was a hero to his other son, so he quit drinking from that day on. My mother also said that he was nothing to her anymore and they were just going to be roommates. She explained to me that she was molested by someone when she was young but at the time I didn't know who the pervert was. I later came to find out that it was my grandfather that she claimed molested her. I loved my grandfather and didn't want to believe it. In the next few months my mother was so kind to me and said very little to my step dad but that was about to change. After putting on an act and pretending she didn't love my step dad anymore, she had a change of heart and told me that whatever happened to me was between my step dad and me. In other words, she didn't believe me or could care less. The months of being close to me changed quickly and she started to treat me as if I was a liar from the start. I didn't know what to do, so I told my younger sister and she explained to me that she was molested by my step dad early in my mother's relationship with my step dad. She said that my mom told her that they can go to police and have nowhere to live or she could keep her mouth shut. My younger sister was just a child at the time and what kind of mom would let that happen to her daughter? To basically sweep it under the rug and tell my sister to never say anything about it. I was so angry that I wrote a letter explaining that I would go to the police, if my step dad and my mother didn't return a lot of the money I paid to live there, so I could move out. This angered my mother and she confided with my younger brother that I was trying to blackmail them in order to get there money. My younger brother was just out of the army and he loved my mom, so he also believed I was making up what my step dad did to me. I came to find out that she also convinced my older sister that I was lying in order to get there money and that I've stole from my step dad in the past. Here I was, with my family turning on me and there was nothing I could do. I got so mad that I went into bathroom and broke a mirror. I walked out and was confronted by my brother. He said if I want to hit someone, hit him. I looked at him as if he was crazy. If I wanted to hit someone, I would have done it a long time ago. As I walked back into my bedroom by brother said, "I knew you would back down." This angered me and I got in his face and told him to hit me then. He backed down and said he was going to put a stop to this and call the police. Well, the police arrived and asked me to come outside. I was lead to their car and then told to put my hands against the vehicle, so they could pat me down. I was humiliated because the neighbors were looking at me and standing in their front yards. Was the world insane? Why was this happening to me? I told the policeman that I was anger because my step dad sexually assaulted me. He told me since it happened months ago, there was little they could do. I went back into the house and sat in the kitchen eye balling both my step dad and mom. They watched television as I sat and stared at them. I didn't say anything until my mom walked up to me and had the nerve to say, "If you are going to act like this, you can't live here." There it was; total betrayal by my entire family. They all got together, minus my younger sister and said in so many words that if I went to police, they would call me a liar because of my Paranoid Schizophrenia. My step dad then opened his mouth and said, "I don't remember anything like what you said happening. This couldn't be true because the morning when he sobered up he was begging and crying. Telling me to say nothing to my mother. He was even smart enough to ask for the porno picture back, so he could throw it in the trash. I was so upset because I couldn't believe my own family would do something like this to me. They started spreading lies about me to other family members soon after. Telling them that I stole money and I didn't take baths. Ridiculous lies in order to discredit me. I told them I wouldn't pay them anymore money, so I didn't and moved out months later. I stayed with my grandmother for a while but I wanted to move far away and forget them. Eventually I found someone to talk to online and that's how I came to live in Sacramento, CA. I can honestly say that I thought coming here to live was the best thing that could ever happen to me but that hasn't worked out either. Now I'm alone again and I'm in a city where I don't know anyone. I'm cut off from my family and I have no friends. I can't believe this has happened to me but it has and I have to live with it every day. So, when people celebrate Mother's Day and talk about how much they love their mothers, I sit here and think why? What did I do to deserve this? Will anyone help me? As always, it falls on deaf ears.





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Friday, May 8, 2015

I don't want to become lost and forgotten.






I don't know if it's because I suffer from Paranoid Schizophrenia or not but I've always have had a great deal of empathy for people who struggle with various mental illnesses. Of course, I'm no doctor and I don't make it a habit of diagnosing people but for some reason I think I'm able to read individuals that I come across in my daily life. I remember once I worked the graveyard shift as a motel desk clerk when I was around eighteen years old. It was a rather big complex that had over two hundred rooms and at least fifty apartment units. I was the only person on duty from 11pm until 7am and it was in a very seedy part of Long Beach, CA. At the time, I was also a full time student and that was the only reason I worked at such an unpleasant place, with less then perfect hours. I would check in all types of people and a lot of people from out of town because there was a small commercial airport nearby. One night a guy came into the office around midnight and struck up a conversation with me. I could instantly tell that he wasn't all there but I knew that I should remain affable. From experience, when I've dealt with people who are obviously having mental issues, you should never laugh or make them feel uneasy. I believe you will never have a problem, as long as you treat them with respect. Having my own issues at the time, I listened as he explained to me that he was actor that made motion pictures with Chuck Norris. He then grabbed a magazine off the table in our office that had two jets flying side by side. He explained that he was in the aircraft in the front, while Sylvester Stallone tailed him. Part of me laughed a little inside and I know that wasn't a nice thing to do, but I managed to hear me out, as he went on to tell me that I should marry his daughter because I was being so nice to him. He then asked me to call him a cab, so I obliged and did as he asked. When the taxi arrived he walked out of the office and waved good bye. I remember spending the rest of the night thinking about the man and wondering what will happen to him. He was a lost soul and he didn't seem to have anyone to lookout for his best interest. Then I thought about my own situation and I got a little scared. Would I ever be in his shoes one day? I sat down in my chair and prayed to God that I never become so lost and forgotten.




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Thursday, May 7, 2015

Joan Fontaine and Olivia de Havilland are both sisters to remember and actresses I'll never forget.





The other day I wrote about my love for old black and white classic films plus a particular actress named Joan Fontaine. Well, Joan Fontaine had an equally famous sister and accomplished actress named Olivia de havilland. When I started at a young age corresponding with Ms. Joan Fontaine I didn't know that her real life sister was Mrs. de Havilland until I read about it in a movie magazine. It saddened me that it appeared that they had a strained relationship for quite awhile. I don't know if it was professional jealousy or something more personal but it wasn't really any of my business. I enjoyed watching both actresses in many classic and some not so classic black and white films. Mrs. de Havilland gained much of her fame from her role in the film, "Gone With The Wind" but she won best actress Oscars for her roles in, "To Each His Own" and "The Heiress." Since I wrote a few times to Ms. Fontaine and asked for an autograph, I decided I'd also write Mrs. de Havilland and request an autograph picture. I wrote to Mrs. de Havilland and sent a self addressed stamped envelope with a photo to be signed and waited for a reply. I wasn't sure if I would be successful because Mrs. de Havilland made her home in Paris, France. Well, months went by and I was beginning to think I wouldn't have any luck obtaining an autograph picture. To my surprise I received my self addressed stamped envelope unopened with a letter attached from Mrs. de Havilland. It was a short type written letter that read:




" Paris, France


                    
Dear Friend,
       
It is with great regret that I return to you,
unopened, your envelope.

During a long interval it has been safely
stored in a room set aside for this special
purpose - as family illnesses, requiring all
my time and care, prevented my giving to it the attention it deserved.

Now another primary obligation keeps me from responding to my mail as I would like to do: the writing of my autobiography which, after so many sad interruptions, I am now able to resume.

I know you will understand and that you will wish me well in the demanding task which I have undertaken.

 With every good wish,

 Most Sincerely,


Olivia de Havilland"



                                                                                      (Actual Letter)




At first I can say that I was disappointed but I was also young and really didn't understand what a gracious thing Mrs. de Havilland had done for me. Sure, I didn't get an autograph picture but I did receive something better. A kind letter explaining to me, as to why she didn't have the time to sign an autograph photo. To think she took the time out of her day to explain to some teenager in The United States why a response took so long. She earned a great deal of respect from me and still does. Joan Fontaine and Olivia de Havilland will always hold a special place in my heart.

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Wednesday, May 6, 2015

This loneliness can be soul crushing at times.





Sometimes the living alone and the complete isolation from anyone really gets to me. I find myself sitting on my couch for hours at a time with a dazed look on my face and very little motivation to change my life's circumstances. I'm forgetting how to communicate with people and as an example, when I do venture outside and I'm put in a position where I need to speak to someone, I trip over my own words. I come across as someone who has trouble speaking. It can be embarrassing when I go through a drive-thru restaurant and I have trouble ordering food because my tongue sabotages every word I try to speak. I don't think a man or women for that matter were put on this Earth to be alone but that's exactly where I find myself most of the time. Of course, my television keeps me engaged but that is a poor substitute for a real living person. And even though I keep my television on twenty-four hours a day, it can't stop the loneliness that surrounds my entire existence. At least I'm blessed to spend most weekends with my son but I hunger for adult conversations. There are times when I self talk and answer my own questions but before you accuse me of being crazy, I do so knowingly. I haven't gone, as far as, Tom Hanks when he starred in the motion picture, "Castaway." I haven't made an inanimate object my best friend, as of yet and have no plans to do so. The idea of giving an inanimate object a voice, so that I won't feel so lonely does sound tragic. I purchased a little finger friend with bulging eyes at the local Dollar Tree store but I haven't gave him a name. I think that's why returning to school meant so much to me. I wanted a reason to venture outside my apartment and be around living human beings but that dream is falling short for now because I'm having trouble getting financial assistance. I'm not giving up on my dream to return to college because it's something I need to accomplish and I hope to find a way. This loneliness can be nothing short of soul crushing and I'm in need of help.


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Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Remembering Joan Fontaine.







Starting when I was very young, I fell in love with old black and white classic films. I use to stay up late and watch many old films on cable, even though I should have been asleep. I'd watch everything from a classic film to a "B" movie with lesser known stars. One female star in particular grabbed my attention and I developed a big crush on her. The name of the actress is Joan Fontaine and I became so enamored with her that I even bought her autobiography, "No Bed of Roses." There was something special about her and every time I saw her act in one of her films, I had a smile from ear to ear. I'd watch her very early films like, "Music For Madame" "The Man Who Found Himself" and "Maid's Night Out" over and over because they were about sixty minutes in length and very enjoyable to watch. Of course, she is better known for films such as, "Susipcion" and "Rebecca." The latter for which she won an Academy Award for Best Actress. As a young man, I wished I grew up when her films were released because then I would be able to see her on the big screen. One Summer vacation I got the idea to write Mrs. Fontaine and ask for her autograph but I didn't know her mailing address. However, I remember reading an article about her and how she made Carmel, California her home, so I just put her name on an envelope followed by Carmel, CA and hoped for the best. I also included, in the envelope, a short poem I wrote her. The poem itself was kind of corny but I wanted to get her attention and hopefully a response. Well, a few months passed and I received the self addressed stamped envelope I sent her. Inside was an autograph picture and a very sweet note.




In my mind, she was as wonderful as I thought and in the coming years I would send a yearly birthday card. She would always respond with a short but kind note. Sadly, Joan Fontaine passed away a couple of years back but she'll be sorely missed by me and I'm sure a number of classic movie fans. I still love old films and watch them religiously because they never get too old for me.





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Monday, May 4, 2015

Sunday at the park with my son.








Yesterday, I spent the greater part of the day with my son at a local park. I hadn't been outside in awhile, so I was looking forward to getting out and spending time with my son. He's a handful at times but it keeps me from wasting my day concentrating on my own problems. I pushed him on a swing set for what felt like hours. He just sits there with the most content smile on his face, as he swings back in the forth with the wind in his face. I attempt to sing songs to him, as I push him on the swing. He laughs and tells me to stop because he wants me to enjoy the silence with him. Afterwards, I chase him around the park and he runs away from me with a contagious laugh. I look forward to spending time with my son and I know he misses me. Ever since I broke up with his mother, I spend most weekends with him at my apartment. His mother and I most likely won't reconcile and I feel bad because I don't want to feel like a part time daddy for my son. It is also my fear that if my ex-girlfriend finds another guy, he'll replace me. I suppose most guys who have children from a broken relationship feel as though they are going to replaced or forgotten and I'm no exception. It doesn't help that my son and his mother have a back story that needs to be understood. As we drove back to my apartment, my son and I stopped by to get a pizza to take home. After we ate, he and I sat on the couch and watched cartoons until I had to take him back to his mom's house. He use to cry when I told him that I had to take him home. He'd cry and say, "Don't you love me?" It would bring me to tears as he cried on the car ride back to his mother's house. Now I've been able to convince him not to cry. I don't like lying to my son but I tell him that I have to go to work to make money, in order to buy him more toys. He now accepts that there's a good reason that he doesn't stay with me anymore. Of course, I don't work because I'm disabled but I couldn't stand to see him get so upset anymore. I suppose that's why I've been so depressed of late. I really wanted to return to college and get an education. I want to make my son proud of me. I want the lie to become the truth but I don't know if I have it in me or if it will be possible. A day at the park, at least cleared my head and made me forget my problems for awhile.




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Saturday, May 2, 2015

My depression is whipping my behind at the moment.



 

I can't shake this depression I'm currently going through and taking 60mg of Prozac a day isn't helping very much. The other day I found out that my return to college might be just a pipe dream. I've been on the phone with The Department of Education trying to get a letter sent to the college I want to attend but I'm not sure that it's going to happen. I attempted numerous times to explain my situation and all I got was that I'm not in their system and I should call another number. Of course, I'm just being put on some sadistic merry go round from hell, so I'm not sure what's going to happen. I haven't been in any type of school for a very long time because of my illness. I remember trying my best to complete a trade school but my Paranoid Schizophrenia kept me from accomplishing my goals. You see, stress is a major trigger for my illness. It causes me to forget and leaves me unable to concentrate. When it's at its worse, I even black out and loose time. I've literally blacked out for months at a time in the past because of stress and it can be very scary. Luckily, I seem to go on auto pilot when I black out and nothing goes terribly wrong. Right now all I can do is sleep and take long naps in order to forget my sadness but I know I'll have to snap out of it soon. It isn't easy to do anything when I feel this way. I have a mountain of trash that I haven't had the courage to throw away yet. The dishes in my sink are overflowing. The only thing that gives me strength is my son. I have to watch him all day tomorrow and that requires all my energy. Most three year old children need all your attention and my son is no exception. The minute he arrives he says, "Let's play guys!" It's his way of letting me know that he wants me to play with him and his action figures. So, I'm up now and I have a lot to do in order to make my apartment look somewhat decent. Depression or not, I have to live my life the best I can.



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Please GoFundMe... In Need of Purchasing a Dependable Used Car, so I can visit my son regularly. Any amount would help and I'll be forever grateful. http://www.gofundme.com/m12hgk  Or you can send funds thru Paypal at my email arichere@yahoo.com Please read my story, as to why I need help. Thank You So Very Much!!!!

My dying car...



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