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The Moments Of Principle

Good Morning Unsually Cold Saturday.

With Snow Yesterday!

Eyes Open at 6:45 or 7:45 a of m.

I actually cannot remember.

I believe it was 7:45.

As I lay under, I hear my Tachycardia, Leg Pain, Anxiety.

All crying out.

And I’m lost.

Strange dreams of the past and under the weather is what I awoke to.

I didn’t want to be here.

I wanted to open my eyes and see my Adolescent Bedroom.

I wanted to drive far and away but I couldn’t.

Physically nor Financially.


Something that I am far removed, tired of the worry, stress, fear, anxiety it has and is causing me.

I cannot keep continuing like this.

I will be buried.

It makes me remember, reflect to my Childhood watching, listening to my Mother and Father fight/argue/scream about money.

My Father putting in 40+ Hours a week as a Heavy Machinery Technician.

My Mother trying to find work.

Then before we left the

House of Horrors,

She was working Full-Time.

It’s strange to think she worked PT Nights at a Video Store.

I have little recall of it, but a few instances when she would come home and anger quickly filling the air due to us still being “up.” *My Father let us stay “up” quite late and watch t.v with him.

If I could return to my Childhood,

I would have led a very different journey, path to Adulthood.

I never would have gotten Married.

Chosen more Degrees and choosing to obtain a State Teaching Certificate/License.

I look back.

Just ten years ago.

Life was quite different.

Now, I am disintegrating.

Who would have known this would be my continuous existence.

I regret some poor choices I made, mistakes I made.

As I listen to Big Log by Robert Plant, I am haunted how true these lyrics have become. *(I’ve loved this track since I was eighteen).

To just let-go is impossible.

It literally is not working,

My Life.

And, I need to find a change immediately, or

I will be gone.

“The Eyes That Just Stare, And The Glance At The Clock
And The Secret That Burns
And The Pain That Won’t Stop
And It’s Fuel Is The Years.” R. Plant

Suicide Diaries Chapter 1

I’m used to feeling alone

I know what that’s like

But, now I find out there’s this whole new level.

Why do people have to Die?

To make life important. S1E13 SFU

Profound on a level most of the World could not grasp.

Unless your a Suicide Survivor or Death Survivor.

If my First Suicide Attempt was complete, I would have been 17.

There’s a major difference in giving in and actually wanting it, The End that is.

In through the Out Door.

Now, 5 Attempts Later in 20 Years, this Profound dialogue speaks to me in a way that I never could imagine.

If I died at 17, how would that make life important?

Forever immortalized young?



There would have been no important aspect to any of it.

People move on, forget.

That’s what is truth.

Now, fast forward to my last attempt which was 29 Days ago.

Nothing Important.

I even told my Mother two Weeks after *(I did sustain injuries) and she didn’t want to talk about it.

I brought it up yesterday morning to talk about it.

Her response:

I’m done for today.”


Not even to my own Mother.

So, no, the message is inaccurate.

There is nothing important unless you are important.

I am not.

And that had been made crystal clear by my Mother, Friends, Former Boss(es), and my Landlord.

All in 48 Hours.

So, Thank You.

Thank You for making it easier to complete my journey of Suicide.

One Year Ago

Month Twelve.

A Year Has Past/Passed Since I Re-located Here.

Only 4 Months Were Filled With Excitement, Content. Job. Career. My Cat Still Alive. Future Dreams.

Eight Months Later,

Everything is gone. Vanished. Depleted.

I lie in bed this overly hot Sunday Morning in extreme pain.

I was in the Emergency Room on Friday for 6 and a half hours. *(My Doc. sent me there while I was in his Office for a Same-Day Appt.).

Ulcerative Colitis. Another Episode.

It’s actually been awhile.

I’ve been consumed with

Severe Sinus Infections since mid-March, I haven’t had any stomach issues *(Other than Stress).

The last time my UC was this bad was in November 2017.

I remember it well.

There have been mini episodes since, but it only last a day *(A few single days out of a month).

This current Episode began this past Thursday.

Like a storm, it rolled through on Friday knocking me out and down.

I tried to Work. Made it only 2 Hours. *(Something I’m nervous about. My Boss did not seem happy with me and I missed a Full Day of Work the Wednesday before due to Sinuses *(I should have just pushed myself to go then this past Friday, I could have stayed and rested).

I cannot afford to lose this Job.

Financially nor mentally.

The UC Pain is so overwhelming, I cannot even lie down in comfort.

And yes, I’m Alone.

I was in hope this current Episode would subside some, so I could at least relax this Sunday morning and complete all my house chores instead of running to the bathroom or worse.

I don’t have much else to say.

The pain has stripped me and taken my energy away.

Eight Months Alone Has Really Taken Its Toll.

Loneliness is not a virtue.

Another Downward Sunday


100% The Seams Of Me.

Not Just My Body, But My Soul.

I’m Wrecked With So Much Sadness, Loss, Loneliness, Regret.

I’m in the worst Financial Crisis I’ve ever been in.

My Well-Being, falling.

My Soul,


I hurt in so many ways I cannot take one more step, breath without collapsing.

My heart is heavy from the idea that Twin Flames still exist, that my Life will normalize again, and I will reach happiness and success in my Career again.

None of this is even close to my door. *(With the exception of Career. There is always hope in that department).


My Saturday Regular Therapy Session at Noon happened.

My Last Saturday Session with my Counselor will be 8/4/18.

I already have a Replacement Again.

Why does this keep occurring?

Last Year Twice. *(17 Months with the same LPC and left me with two shitty Counselors. Then Late Spring [2017], Replaced With Another And Said Counselor Leaves In September 2017).

Now, this?

My current Counselor and I have been working together for 8 Months.

Through this awful year.

And my last Session is in 7 Days.

August and September are very difficult months for me.

Why Now?

Yesterday Evening.

I tried to finish more cleaning/chores.

I did and it almost killed me.

So, exactly at 9:22p.m, I got up and lit my two livingroom candles, fed Cats, and decided I needed a new Film/Movie to watch/view.

I chose Amy.

It’s a Docu about Amy Winehouse from 2015.

I had not heard of its release until last night on Social Media from a friend who was watching the Docu and recommended it *(Her and I have similar taste in the Film Arena).

It was a long Documentary.

Over 2 Hours.

I was not comfortable due to Dysautonomia.

So, the first 45 minutes I was fighting it all just to relax, remain comfortable.

After the Documentary, I watched her Video*(twice) for Back to Black.

I forgot how great of a Song that was/is.

*I did indeed purchase her Album when it was released in 2006.

I was a fan for a short period of time.

I decided to stay in the Music Genre of Film, so I re-watched *(half) Sid and Nancy.

It had been awhile, and I was in the mood.

Then I noticed the time,


Time for sleep.

I made myself head to bed.

I did not want another downward Sunday.

8:23 on the dot I awoke.

5 Hours of slumber and dreams.

Dreams I do not want.

Insert Twin Flame.

Why am I still dreaming about him?


My Dysautonomia was on fire, so I took my Medication and another slice of Medication to sleep.

I found myself awake after only two hours.

Again, with dreams left off from the night.

What the fuck?!

I do not want this.

It hurts unbelievably so.

The Dreams have shifted too.

These were nice dreams.

The realness of the dreams themselves and now the shift, I don’t understand.


As I lie in bed, Black Slacks, Wife Beater, and a Cropped AC/DC T-Shirt, it’s another downward Sunday.

I’m tired.

Im tired from lack of sleep

I’m tired of struggling with everything

I’m tired of the past haunting me

And why I can’t let go.

Illumination 27

Wet Toes.

Amputated Toes.




Bisquick Farm Thy Neighbor Above.


Don’t Like The Smell Of Pancakes At 8:30 a of m.

Don’t Like The Smell Of Pancakes At Any Time.


And it’s only 10:10.

Full Moon/Eclipse last evening.

I found myself among candles, music, and Cats.


Oh Well.

Maybe that’s the way it is meant for me now.

After the night kept passing by and the Full Moon began its decline, I finished re-viewing the rest of the film, Control and then buzzing around on Roku.

Sleep was coming, so I headed to bed without tears.

Awoke to sunrise and not my breakfast.

Realized bowl I superglued was now superglued to rented kitchen counter.


I had to break said bowl *(now in garbage) and a partial ring of Superglue is frozen on the rented kitchen counter.



Gave up.

Listened (partial) to Santigold’s new Album.

Really Good.

She never lets me down.

On my Instagram. Uploading the Boomerang Video from last evening.




Back in bed with one Cat continuously trying to sleep ontop of me.


Not Wearing Pajamas.




Regular Saturday Therapy Session at Noon.




Eyes are heavy.

Still Hungry.


Sinus Infection


Listened to Taxi To Heaven.

It’s been awhile.

Chest hurts.




Interrupted by Phone Call.

Mopped Again.

Rinse Mop Bucket Out

Water Was Brown. *(Mopped it twice two Saturday’s ago and last Sunday, Swiffler Mop. Why the heck is the water brown)?!

Thank You Pinesol.

Cleaned/Bleached Mop.

Fed Cats.

Looked At Superglued Kitchen Counter


Vacuuming, Laundry, And More Mopping Needs To Be Done.

Dishwasher Too.


Want Coffee.



Financial Crisis At Its Worst.

Oh Well.

I don’t eat anymore.

I’m the only one who knows the major reason why *(Besides Gastroparesis).

Coffee with my Silk Vanilla Almond Milk Creamer/Omelette, Spanish Style/Potatoes/Ketchup/Juice.

Sounds Great.


Found This BEAUTIFUL Photo On Instagram This A of M.

Someone I Follow.

I Was Going To Edit The Photo To My Liking (with the property name still), But Decided To Let It Be.


Full Moon.



In My Existence

All Happening Now.

Lunar Sunday

Much of the pain and suffering in our lives comes from holding onto things too long and too tightly.
The skill of learning to let go and to release and relax into the flow of life is a recipe for greater peace and happiness.” L.

This concept is something I struggle with not just as a Buddhist, but in life, this universe.

My regular Therapy Session yesterday needed an extra 30 minutes due to this exact concept.

As I lie here, Sunday late afternoon, missing my Mother’s Birthday, I reflect on many people in my life.

Things I don’t understand, can’t let go, want answers.

My life default.

Here I am, alone, no one to talk to, sunk in from a super Sinus Infection, chores complete, and just wanting some peace. My mind to stop circling the past as if somehow the circles will rewind time and I can change things or make it stand still.


Moving too fast now.

I want do-overs, repeats, days of the past to return.

My eyes are heavy from lack of dreams and the Infection.

I look at the blank aging walls, two windows covered with blinds, I can see my Enclosed Porch. The sun still beaming in, reminding me another Weekend has past and I did it alone again.


Is there no longer anybody out there?

The irony of this manipulated Album Cover. How the prism breaks, shatters because “a matter of fact, it’s all dark.” Pink Floyd