Black Cat Blog

This morning I woke up feeling cheerful and that is an encouraging sign for me. When my depression symptoms are waning, I feel better in the mornings and I want to seize the day. This morning has been the first in quite a while that I woke up not dreading the day or what I have to do. I hope that this is a positive sign of things to come. I did notice that my blood sugar control was the best it had been in quite some time. I woke up this morning with fasting numbers in the 80s! I think there is hope for me yet.

With all that has happened in the month of September and into October, I’ve also come to realize what is important to me. Denisse is really important to me and I feel closer to her as a result of the life altering medical issues that I’ve had. It’s a shame that it took this to realize what great woman I have in my life. Now I want to make certain that she’s happy and feels safe and secure. There’s so much I wish for her. I just want her to feel that she’s beautiful because she objectively is. This falls on me to keep reassuring her that she is and I like the responsibility.

Today will be an intentionally light day. This morning Denisse and I have a crap load of laundry to do and then it will be just a relaxing Thursday. She got me into Chicago Fire and Chicago PD so hopefully there will be new episodes on tonight. Another thing I’ve noticed after all of these medical problems is that I am spending less time overall on my computer and retreating into my office. It’s like I want to spend more time with Denisse. I’ve come to realize that time is precious and short. As I get older, time accelerates and I’ve become acutely aware of this. Now the moments I spent with the people closest to me become more important than ever.

I realize that it is good for my mental health to not only be loved but to love and care for another. The simple act of giving Denisse back rubs and shoulder rubs makes me feel good. I think I’ve matured in some fashion over these last two months. It makes me only want to become a better person to and for Denisse. I can freely and honestly tell her I love her. I hope one day she will be able to tell me the same. But I understand why she cannot because of the trauma that she’s been through. All I can do is continue to tell her that I love her because it is the truth.

Last night I had a rather transcendent experience. I know it’s probably not a good idea to mix beer and THC but my Odin. The experience was out of this world. So much so that I still feel pretty damn good the next day. This is not something I want to do often though. I don’t know how credible the research is on marijuana-induced psychosis is but I won’t risk it. Anything abused can be a bad thing.

Today I took Denisse to get new glasses and I really like her choice. I just wish I could take her depression and pain away. I’m angry at what men have done to her. She has just been treated so awfully. She is objectively beautiful but has been judged so harshly by men that she doesn’t see her beauty. It pains me that she has been subjected to this. This is why I need to give her daily affirmations of just what she means to me. I want to as well.

Denisse is a really good person and worth the effort to put into a relationship. I’ll keep making that effort!

My security guard job is working at a police department monitoring cameras for a program called City Watch. There is a homeless camped out at a bus shelter and I’ve been actively monitoring him because he’s older and in danger of becoming a victim to assault or any of the other maladies that life on the streets offers. Anyhow, the damn camera failed so now I cannot ensure his safety. It’s clear that he’s down on his luck and has nowhere to go because all of the shelters are full. He’s not even even on drugs or alcohol. There are no alcohol bottles surrounding him. He’s only got soft drink bottles and wrappers from food. Sad situation.

We’ve a real problem with homelessness in the United States and the problem is exacerbated by the Faircloth Amendment which makes it illegal to use federal funds for building new public housing units. As with any law, one must follow the money trail where it leads and it leads back to the landlords and their respective lobby group. The landlord lobby was concerned about competition from public housing. Landords got their wish of market protection and manipulation from the passage of this amendment to the Housing Act of 1937.

Now we have a system of housing vouchers that turned out to be a giant gift to the landlords. Basically, the landlord receives a guaranteed payment of rent and some additional protections to prevent abuse of the unit for rent. As an added gift, the laws make qualifying for being a housing provider easy and inexpensive. In fact, a landlord is only required to do very minimal upkeep so many of the housing units are, in effect, slums. As usual it is the impoverished ones who suffer the greatest under this system. It is laughable that they even call the program a “housing choice” program. The choice is usually between shitty and shittier places to live. There is no choice.

Repealing the Faircloth Amendment is the first step in solving the US housing crisis. Honestly, this is not even the best approach because there are already enough vacant homes to solve the housing crisis once and for all. As always, this problem lacks the political will to solve. It is an easy problem to solve but none of our elected officials want to do anything about it. Then I get really angry when I hear about people designing cheap, portable housing tent-like structures and then thinking of ways to commercialize them. This is not a solution! It’s a fucking bandage.

I know these people mean well and are trying to help but these designs and and ideas are only stop gap measures. Why not take the time and energy to fight the system directly rather than doing this? It’s not solving the problem. It seems like people took the easiest solution available. Attorneys are required to do pro bono work as part of maintaining their licenses to practice. Make them help file briefs and challenge the Faircloth Amendment. Advocacy for a solution is better than kicking the can down the street which is all these portable shelters do. And in many cases, the law favors the cities and the cities will come with their law enforcement squads and destroy these shelters anyway. I am just furious over the whole thing.

I’m still trying to master the art of navigating my environment. It’s just going to take time. Since I am now walking with a cane, I actually have to remind myself to synchronize the cane extension with my left foot moving. One of my particular autism issues is visual spatially related. Eventually this synchronization will happen naturally. I have to reprogram my brain.

I also have to get used to the world looking at me as disabled. High functioning autism is a hidden disability and I got used to passing largely as “normal.” There’s no way to hide walking with a cane or riding the “short bus.” I simply have to stop caring about what others see. I need this service so screw anybody that thinks otherwise.

Some humor for today: While I was in the hospital for medical issues, I unfortunately had a MAGAt for a roommate. He was insufferable! I finally told him to leave me the hell alone. Anyhow, on my last day in the hospital, I dropped a particularly rank deuce in the potty. As a man, I was proud of that one! When he went to use the potty, he yelled, “Fucking liberals always stink up the joint!” Despite myself I laughed hard which only fueled his rage. Thankfully, he just had back surgery so I was in no eminent danger. But I was damn proud of that one! Ha!

Well, it’s time for me to start my shift. I hope all goes smoothly.

Unfortunately, I was sent back to the hospital today because my heart rate continued to slow down and I developed a feeling of palpitations in my chest. I also feel like I am having a harder time breathing again. I truly hope I don’t have blood clots in my lungs again but I am almost feeling exactly the same way as I was when I was admitted with a pulmonary embolism back on Tuesday, September 2nd. Maybe I feel worse now. I’m not tired but I feel completely drained of energy. I still feel like I am going to have a hard time falling back to sleep.

I used to have a nihilistic outlook on life not really caring about life or death, just sort of moving through life. Before meeting Denisse, I was living life primarily on my own terms because I had no relationship, no significant other, and was all on my own. Therefore, it never really occurred to me to care about how my life/health would impact someone else For the first time it hit viscerally (not just logically) that I am no longer living for myself and my own needs. I have a woman in my life who loves and cares for me. This means I’m living for her too. Everything has really hit home.

So now I have dropped the nihilistic attitude and since I truly care now whether I live or die, I am quite nervous and scared. I’ve grown comfortable living in a sort of Zen-like nihilism which took away a lot fear of death that has now returned and I am processing it. I don’t want to hurt those that love me and I know they would be hurt if something catastrophic happened. The true feeling of love is frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Exhilarating because I’ve never really felt this way about a woman and frightening because something might happen to me and it could cause her a lot of worry.

I know she is already very worried about having me back in the hospital. Doubtless she’s even more so because a car is out of reach of affordability for the two of us and public transportation in the Wilmington, Christiana, and Newark Delaware region. I told Denisse not to come to the hospital because it is a long trip by bus at night and I am concerned she could be stranded in Wilmington when the buses stop for the night. She would be in an area not safe to be in at night. I don’t want to be worried about her safety so I’d rather her home and safe. I promised her regular updates instead.

Now my situation in graduate school in my masters in social work program may become tenuous. This is something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time and I am hanging in by a thread. I’m facing withdrawing from a class to bring my credits down to 6. But at least it would mean a medically-annotated withdrawal so it wouldn’t look bad on a transcript. Still it means a longer schooling time but it is what it is. I just cannot handle anything more at the moment until I get things medically worked out.

Right now I am just overwhelmed by all that has transpired since the beginning of September. I feel like a ship lost at sea with no means of navigation. I know I have to shake this feeling and get back on track. I just don’t know why everything feels so impossible right now. I feel some self pity and self anger for not taking care of myself when it was so important. I feel out of second chances.

But fight I must because an angel has fallen into my lap and be damned if I am going to lose her She’s too special a person and matters too much. I’ve made many mistakes in my life but Denisse was/is not one of them. So now I will only try to look at what challenge I am facing immediately. This challenge is seeing what, if any, heart issues I may have and how I can overcome them.

I am paying the price of a lot of bad choices that I’ve made throughout my life. One of the results of which was developing Type 2 Diabetes. The nerves are slowly dying in my feet making it difficult for me to walk. Now this is starting to happen in my bladder causing incontinence and I am only 48 years old. I also seem to have issues with developing blood clots so I will be on blood thinners for the rest of my life. All of these issues happened as a result of developing a very unhealthy relationship to food. I am going to share the experience in the hope that it may help someone in time to prevent this from happening to them.

When I was a pre-teen through my teenage years and into my 30s, my father would berate me about my weight and my eating habits without helping me to develop healthy ones. He would use mental, verbal, and emotional abuse. The end result would be me sneaking unhealthy food and hiding it. I would also eat quickly so that it would be consumed before he could discover it. This was in effect serious eating disorder. My father was warned by psychiatrists and psychologists to cease this behavior because it would be destructive and ultimately cause more harm than good. But he knew better and ignored the experts.

The net result is where I am today in a hospital bed, quite sick, and facing a future fraught with uncertainty. I used unhealthy food as medicine to cope with anxiety, sadness, depression; I even ate when happy. In the end it poisoned me. The ultimate irony is I grew out of a lot of the other childhood problems that I had. I might have never developed this eating disorder if it had not been for my father. He could not leave well enough alone.

Now I am left with nothing but hatred remaining for the man. I finally had the courage to tell him a couple of weeks ago that I never want to speak to him again. I blocked his phone number and I will never speak to him again. I no longer care if that makes me an ogre. The man has dementia and is facing a court hearing where he will be most likely declared non compos mentis. And I am cheering this disposition on because I believe he roundly deserves this fate for what he has caused me.

I fear I may never be able to have intercourse again because of the nerve damage I’ve experienced. I worry that I may never sleep another night without the worry of incontinence. My girlfriend did not sign up to be my caretaker; nor do I want her to assume that role. The urological medications that can be used to potentially treat the incontinence might cause heart issues or other serious side effects. I signed up to be my girlfriend’s rock. I brought her out of a bad situation in Pennsylvania because I realized what a good person she is and I quickly fell for her because of the pure goodness she has.

If you think you have an eating disorder, please, please get help immediately. I shared my story above not to get sympathy but to tell you what you might face later in life if you don’t get help. Please do not make the mistakes that I’ve made. Now I am effectively a 48 year old in a 75 year old man’s body. I may meet with a slow progression of future problems as nerves die or become less effective. If I can leave the world with one thing, then remember that food has the potential to be a double-edged sword. It can be both a poison and healing substance. If you have an eating disorder, food has become a poison. You may still have time to make it nourishing and healing.

I will leave you with this final thought. We only have a finite number of years to live. Therefore we need to try to make these years the very best ones possible.

Normally when it comes to medical issues I remain optimistic and hopeful. Today, I am all out of optimism and hope. I’m actually quite sad and feeling defeated. At 48 years old I am dealing with serious incontinence problems. I’m also simultaneously dealing with borderline bradycardia and low blood pressure. So I am back in the hospital for doctors to try and figure things out. All I want to do is break down and cry. As if this was not enough, I got a 38/50 on my topic proposal for my research for one of my classes. I was sure I had done better. I’m coming apart at the seams.

Urinating is burning like fire right now. I’m really worried. I have so much vested in this master’s program and I can feel it slipping away gradually. I need to somehow get my concentration back and redouble my efforts. I’m a smart and capable person. Why am I unable to concentrate!? Where is my major malfunction!? This is something I want to do. Social Work is something I want to do. Grad school is something I want to do.

Maybe I just need to revisit my study strategy a bit. 15 minutes of study and 10 minutes of break. Maybe during this difficult time period, I just need to be kinder and gentler to myself. After I pass this hurdle, I’ll make it through. I will succeed here. I will simply redouble my efforts. I will recommit to success.

It’s definitely been quite a week! I bit off a lot with this Masters in Social Work program. Even with opting out of the practicum and the co-requisite class, I have my hands full. It seems like after I complete one writing assignment, 2 more pop up like the carnival game of whack-a-mole. The days are quite long and I am finding that I need to take one day off a week, which usually happens to be a Wednesday. That day I do nothing and end up sleeping most of the day away to recover. I am reminded again that I am not in my roaring 20s anymore.

But I am not really old yet either and I can handle this. I can do this. I just have to take it one day at a time and one challenge at a time. This weekend’s challenge is simply to get through two shifts of work and maybe try to do a little bit of studying while I am at it. If the studying does not happen, I am okay with that. I just cannot believe how fast the semester is going. The fifth week has already gone by. I am amazed.

I am also dealing with a somewhat worrisome issue at my age. I know I should not be dealing with incontinence but I am. I’ve gotten a message out to my doctor but have not heard anything just yet. I may have to send a follow-up message via the patient portal. I am fairly certain I do not have a UTI because I don’t have any painful urination or blood in my urine so I’ve no idea what’s going on. And damnit! I forgot (again) to schedule my colonoscopy and follow-up with the hematologist. So now to set an alarm on my phone.

I think I am adjusting to my new night medication pretty well. I had my psych P.A. pull me off of mirtazipine (Remeron) because of its metabolic side effects. I know that it can exacerbate blood sugar issues. Since stopping it I feel a bit better and the neuropathy in my feet seems to have lessened slightly. Walking is becoming easier now. I still clop like a horse though and I need a new pair of sneakers because the pair I have are getting worn. I know diabetics are supposed to replace shoes more often and I am finding out why.

Despite being as busy as I am, I have found out that with the change in the one night time medication, I don’t get the sudden onset of crying spells for no reason. I found that happening sometimes while studying at the library. I would get this sudden intense onset of heavy depression. I mean I would just want to sit there and sob. But no thoughts precipitated the episode. It was just a sudden and crushing weight. Thankfully, I do not feel that anymore.

I guess it is also noteworthy that I no longer dream anymore with this new medication. I had a completely dreamless sleep for three nights in a row. It’s simply amazing! I haven’t slept like this since I was a little boy. Literally, I have no dreams good or bad. I woke up once during the night to use the bathroom and I felt a strange sense of relief and smiled. I’m not having PTSD dreams, even mild ones.

I don’t know that there is much more to say this morning other than the coming week is going to be long and hard with lots to do. Oh before I forget. I got a 100 on my first ever masters paper! That felt really good. Yes, it was only a 2 page paper but it felt like a huge accomplishment.

I feel good this morning and ready to tackle another week as a full time master’s student. I got confirmation yesterday that I chose a good topic for exploration from my professor for Racism, Diversity, Oppression & Privilege class so that felt good. I am going to explore the following questions: When black men. women, and children go missing, why does it take society as a whole longer to find them? Why do they often not get found? It credit my girlfriend for the genesis of the idea while we were watching TV. There’s no shortage of material based on this.

On Saturday (9/13), the two of us watched the first episode of a documentary on HBO called Black and Missing which gave me all kinds of ideas. I watched it from an academic perspective versus an emotional one. I purposely watched it detached so I could see it from multiple angles and ask myself what resources I want to go to for statistics, publications, arguments, etc. I was thinking about the directions I wanted my research to go. There is already ample evidence of the problem. I just need to find concrete research of the problem and tie it to social work theory on a macro level and maybe show some historical context to show the root of the problem. It would probably behoove me to make recommendations for the solution and find credible research to back that up.

I feel much more confident that I can find material to write this paper and really write a good one too. This new found confidence is making me feel a whole lot better. I am ready to tackle what this program brings.

Last night I had a delightful belly laugh. I haven’t had one of those in a very long time and words cannot describe the feeling at all. Denisse heard about the South Park episode called Got A Nut and she really wanted to see it. She never saw the series and she wanted to see it because of all the rumor and controversy surrounding it. Oh my – excuse me – fucking god was it funny! I mean the episode is so funny that I physically hurt from laughing so hard.

The funnies parts of Got A Nut were the parts featuring Kristi Noem dressed in ICE riot gear with her face constantly drooping and being reattached and fixed up and the parts featuring Trump’s smirking head attached to Colonel Sanders’ body. Every time the cartoonish Trump spoke his head wildly flapped and his mouth moved with such exaggeration that I was in stitches. I laughed to the point of coughing and wheezing.

Yes, this was a good one. I don’t ordinarily use images in my blog entries but one was really needed here. Every time I picture this, I am done. I just hurt from laughter. South Park is usually like that. They’re equal opportunity offenders – they single out everyone to offend which is why I like them very much. These days, with all of the antidepressants that I take, a show or movie has to be honest-to-odin funny for me to laugh. South Park is still funny after damn near 30 years.

The laugh was so good that it left me feeling better. My dreams were naturally much more relaxed and even a little goofy. I am well on my way for a research topic to submit to my professor for my class on Racism & Oppression. I feel, for once, like I am able to manage and juggle all of the balls in the air. Tonight I will enjoy the Eagles game and maybe so good food with some friends. All-in-all a good Sunday.