Memories of Birthdays long past!
My Birthday is coming up, as I have been telling everyone on Facebook. Really! I will be 32 years old next Monday the 26th. For someone who didn’t think they would live to be 30, that is a long time! And now that I am beyond 30, I am viewing life in a much different way. For one thing I have to get together a strategy for sustaining my life, instead of just burning out.
I’ve quit smoking cigarettes. It has been since Wednesday at 2pm that I have had a smoke. But to be honest I had three cigarettes on Friday night. BUT none since. And I didn’t ask for the first one of three, I thought it was drugs and I was drunk. But none since, no bad cravings. I was popping lozenges on top of patches A LOT the first day, and then less and less in the days since. Today I’ve only had about three of them, on top of the patch. I can smell things now, like the fresh air. Which I SWEAR to GOD smells like a Bounty dryer sheet to the newly ex-smoker’s nose. AND I have maintained not smoking pot everyday. I had some at a party on Friday night, but that’s it, just weekly tokes. I still want to get down to NO toking. I think it’s a worthy goal for myself. I don’t even really care about the feeling it gives me anymore, the being high feeling. It’s suddenly so unimportant.
UNFORTUNATELY I seem to be getting DRUNK with more intensity than before. Like REALLY drunk. I have to back off from that a bit. I really don’t want to replace getting high with being drunk, because both states are incredibly annoying to others. I’m not a mean drunk, but I can be a stupid drunk. And I don’t like being stupid.
Every time I get around to my birthday, I always re-evaluate my life, my morals and beliefs and ethics. I try to grow as a person. Some birthdays I am better at this than others. And this birthday I am torn between going out and getting FUCKED UP like is normal for one of my adult birthdays, or doing something entirely wholesome like have a picnic. I suppose there is room for both. I just want to have some fun, do something profoundly interesting with some people.
My friend Louis Cruz from back in my second home of Vancouver sent me some photos tonight of us getting drunk during my 27th birthday back in 2005. We were so cute! And it looked like it was so fun, just me and my friends hitting the pub and then going to the gay bar, me in Louis’ sailor shirt and my sailor hat. I often wonder whatever happened to my sailor hat. It was low key yet ridiculously fun. I want to have another birthday like that, a dress up get drunk and dance birthday. I should really organize something. I also wanted to have a hot tub party at my Mom’s, if she was out of town. But I don’t know yet if she is going to be out of town for sure.
YIPPEE! She says I can have a hot tub party at her house on Saturday night! Except we can’t stay too late.
Unpaid Blogging Work Ethic: And how to send weird messages that wig people out
I am always hearing this stuff about how people make themselves so famous because of blogging. And end up making all this money off their blogs.
I never made ANY money off my blogs! Sometimes I PAID money to have blogs. And mostly that is self-esteem based, I feel like I am not writing enough to be worthy of being a famously wealthy/enterprising blogger. I did once have this idea about making some Genderfuck t-shirts with my sketchy ink drawings of differently gendered silhouettes. Which would bring in some revenue. I guess. But then, life catches up with me and I go through different phases of my life of being able to write something everyday to not writing much, ever. And it’s not always because I don’t care, it’s often because I am too busy or sometimes too depressed. Uh, unfortunately when I am Manic I write ALL THE FREAKING TIME! About weird shit. Everywhere! Literally, I will be walking down the street while manic letting little weird pieces of paper with strange stories fall out of my pockets. It’s a really bad idea sometimes, to write! You can write yourself into all kinds of terrible situations! I had a burning once, of the Writings. I had access to the internet for such a short time, and then got into trouble and went home and wrote all kinds of little books full of all these thoughts I had. And then I burned them four years later. And then fuck, I went crazy a couple months after doing that and wrote all kinds of NEW things everywhere, and had access to the internet!
The Dube Centre has internet access for patients now.
I’m worried, I have never had internet access from a ward before, I might write all kinds of funny things. I am not in a ward now! I am actually at home. But my cousin was in the ward recently and I saw their new computer. I started remembering all the strange emails I wrote that wigged people out! I know all the things I would write from a ward in the future would be wigging people out, just by virtue of me being able to write from a locked ward.
Some people don’t realize this, but there is also a phone anyone can use during specific hours on most wards. It’s just been the internet that has been slow to be introduced to psych wards.
It sucks not having access to email, or your voice messages, or any other place to contact people besides through other patients answering the phone and finding you, and if not finding you then being sane enough to take a message.
AN update on my cousin: My cousin Luke is now at North Battleford in the big hospital doing some extended programming and stuff for a year or so. It’s this really old timey hospital from the 40’s that had a morgue and has some graveyard on the property and it’s pretty institutional, but he is safe and hopefully will grow into a more stable being. His life’s been pretty up and down, mostly down, so I hope this stay helps him out. Poor guy, it must be so boring. They make psych wards as boring as possible so as not to disturb people, but it gets pretty tedious. Even with the occasional person acting out, there’s not a whole lot to do besides smoke cigarettes. And even that is getting phased out. Except at the place Luke is at, he can go outside and smoke cigarettes. But not at the Dube Centre because you can’t smoke anywhere on Health Region property. Even when I was at Hantleman we had to walk all the way to the river to smoke. No smoking in the parkinglot. You have to stand just OUTSIDE of the parking lot.
And now Hantleman is an office building. Or will be.
But with care I will not have to spend time at the Dube centre using the computer and sending weird messages to the world. I have to be more mindful of taking my medications.
Little Mister wants to go to bed. I think it’s time. Little Mister! Don’t sleep on the floor!