Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category

I avoid mirrors, I simply can’t handle seeing my own reflection. I naturally have a difficult time making eye contact with anyone, fearing they will see through my mask. The rare moments I make eye contact with the man in the Mirror I grow weary and this is what came out.

My faces of evil

Cleverly hidden 

My eyes…

The window into a voidless darkness…

Soulless 

Stare too long and he takes you away

“Grab my hand”

“I will take this pain away”

“Follow me into the shadows”

“Fear not of voided thoughts”

“Shed no tears”

“We have lived beyond our years”

“Trust in me”

“To take the pain away”

Behind my children’s eyes
They weep, they cry
Standing by while flowers die
No hope upon this stage
Locked away in my cage
They cry
Regardless of our futile tries
Seeing their eyes
Hearing their cries
Inside I slowly die
To know their pain
Daddy has gone insane
To be the cause, attacking with verbal claws
Suddenly I pause
Realizing a life of lies
Failed tries
All the things which bring tears to their eyes
The fractured parts lay bare to see
Hating myself for being me
With holy sighs
Wishing I couldn’t hear my children’s cries
Stop their tears
Ease all fears
The lies
The fights
Fucking sleepless nights
The lies
Sorrow in their eyes 

What I am about to write may be scattered and disorganized, but I need to recap the events prior to writing this. In an attempt to stay grounded and lesson the confusion I took notes along the way.

I couldn’t sleep last night, I took more than enough sedatives but still was unable to sleep. I had a physical this morning so I could get the ok from my doctor stating I am physically able to go through ECT treatments. I cannot recall much of last night not because of all the medicine I took to be honest it didn’t even phase me. I got lost in the dread of having to go to my physical because it’s not a part of my routine. 

On my way to my appointment I started to get sick, light headed, nauseous, skin burning, and my mind slowly shutting down. There was construction going on in the parking lot meaning I couldn’t Park in my normal spot I became sicker my panic grew stronger I checked into my appointment at this point I had my notebook in hand jotting down things going on around me because I knew I wouldn’t remember.

When I saw my doctor I explained why I was there to have a physical to be cleared to receive ECT treatments we engaged in conversation which I do not recall Beyond the scribbled notes in my book I got my flu shot then was sent to get my labs while I was waiting the doctor called the lab area and asked me to go back to see her she was concerned about something and then this person named Katie I think was there and I was talking to her and then for some reason I have an appointment with her tomorrow I think she’s a social worker when we were done I asked what should I do now and they said I was done so I left.

Going through my check-off sheet I did not get my blood drawn which I was supposed to do but now I see this person tomorrow I made sure I wrote it down.

My head is swimming just trying to make sense anything really trying to make sense so I don’t get lost in the fear of confusion this is very difficult for me because my mind my intelligence my ability to use my intelligence is not there and I don’t understand it don’t understand who I am or how I got here. 

I don’t even recognize the reflection in the mirror to go even further I don’t recognize my mind. It is seriously fucked up how much of who I am is no longer who I am. It is fucked up how not that long ago I was able to do complex data analytics without using analytical software, now I have a hard time processing the steps to do basic shit a child could do without a problem. 

This is by far the worst part of this entire shit show. I can handle the depression, anxiety, suicidal ideologies, and all sorts of fucked up broken fragmentation. Because throughout all of that I was still able to tap into my intelligence and cognitive functioning properly. The only good quality in me is gone. I don’t know how to accept this. 

Being poor

Wanting more

Cubburds bare

I wished upon a star

Even trying a rare prayer

An elephant tear

Appears filled with fear

Being poor

Children needing more

Unwaking nightmare

I promised I swore

I tried so hard to ignore 

My final wish to create my final scar

I was looking at myself in the mirror today hoping my reflection had changed by seeing this changed reflection I may be able to not see the ugliness I try to deny and lie to myself and everyone else I don’t even recognize when I am looking at I don’t know if it’s even me the window to my soul lonely and lifeless I wonder if this is my vision of the future who the fuck knows certainly not this joker in the mirror

I apologize for the lack of punctuation in this post. I am trying to use talk to text, because my mind runs a million miles a second and I can rarely keep up which hinders my number of posts.

I have a question for my readers which I would love feedback about. I have been told I should start a vlog or podcast of my fucked up ramblings. After people hear me go on and on about Random shit jumping around from one topic to another I always think to myself I wish I had used this material as a post but all is quickly forgotten.

Should I try vloging or start up a podcast?

I have heard this phrase from many people when it comes to my writings about suicide. I agree with them 100% And Believe Me I would love nothing more then too no longer be. My issue is as it always has been, how will my Suicide effect my family. That alone has been my safety net. I have a plan I have a date this makes me comfortable because its the only thing i feel i can control. Before my date I owe it to my family to make sure I am doing everything I can to make myself mentally healthy. I will continue to try as hard as I can to want to live.

Writing about my troubled feelings is cathartic and helps me deal with and process my feelings. I apologize if some of my writings contain suicidal ideologies and for those who get annoyed because i dont just shut up and do it, if things continue to get worse than you will have your wush. Frankly when it comes down to it if you don’t like what I’m saying then stop reading my fucking shit.

Graceful Dancing

Posted: May 16, 2015 in Absolute Truth, Abuse, Aging, America, Anxiety, Arguments, Atheism, Atheist, Bi-Polar, Bible, Blog, Blogging, Books, Brainwashed, Change, Charity, Charity Foundations, Christianity, Church, Community, Confessions, Coping, Corporate Culture, Crisis, Crooked Politicians, Culture, Death, Debates, Depression, Diary, Dilemma, Dreams, Duty of Care, Dying, Elderly, Emotional Abuse, Epic Battle, Ethics, Evil, Faith, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, God, Good, Good-byes, Greed, Grief, Haile Selassie, Insanity, Inside My Mind, Jesus, Journal, Lies and broken promises, Life, Lists, Living in fear, Logic, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Minnesota, Misc, miscellaneous, Moral Theories, Morals, Motivation, Mourning, Nursing Homes, Opinion, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Politics, Prayers, Progress, Psychosis, Quotes, Random, Random Thoughts, Rants, Reform, Rejection, Rights, Sadness, Self-esteem, Self-Help, Self-image, Social Debates, Social Injustices, Society, Sorrow, Spirituality, Stress, Suffering, Suicide, Suicide Note, The Bible, The Bucket List Foundation, The Philosophy of Quotes, Theology, TheRandomArtist, Thoughts, Treatment, Uncategorized, Unity, Verbal Abuse, Work, Work Environment, Writing
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The choice of letting go and saying goodbye is never easy, yet the decision to hold on is even harder. I have let go of hopes, dreams, relationships, redemption and written my goodbyes many times in the past, but every morning I regret my choices and my decisions to hold on… This was the beginning of the post I was working on last Saturday, what was to follow was going to be my final words then swallow every bit of medication I had and finally be at peace. Instead I ended up in the psych ward at Abbot where I stayed until yesterday against my doctors and others advice. I didn’t see the point in staying, all they did was drug me to the point where all I could do was sleep. I was at a crossroads where I knew whether I chose to stay or go I was leaving in worse shape when wen I went in. When I walked out of the hospital and reality came crashing down on me I knew right then and there that I fucked up choosing to go to begin with, yet again regretting my decision to hold on. So I am back where I started but with a bit more inner strength then I had before because I received a mental vacation, but seriously how long will that last? The answer will come in the next week or so as I sit back and see how everything plays out between my job, dream, finances, and relationships. I feel I am at the point where depending on how these things play out will determine my future.

My life is riddled with mistakes, and regrets each one adding to the greater mound of shit called life. At this moment three key things come to mind, keep in mind this is not in chronological order of importance.

  1. Failing at fixing all the problems at the nursing home I work at to improve the quality of life of the residents I have grown to care for so deeply.
  2. Giving up on my dreams of becoming a writer or an artist.
  3. Not finding redemption for the countless number of lives I have destroyed in my 35 years on this earth.
  4. Not following through with shit on November 26th.

I think what it comes down to is acceptance. I need to accept that I won’t ever be more than I am right now. I have to finally accept I won’t ever be able to help the residents where I work. I don’t know what’s worse giving up on my dreams or trying to redeem myself by helping people just like me who can’t help themselves. I have done shitty things; I have poisoned and hurt everyone and everything I have ever touched. Many of my poems touch on this concept of being a “virus.”

For over six years I have worked so hard to make up for all the pain and suffering I have caused by reducing the pain and suffering the residents at the nursing home I work for by the hands and decisions of the very same people who are supposed to care for and safe guard these residents. There are many good hearted people whom I work with who carry this burden of failure, if any of them are reading this they know the deep sorrow and feeling of helplessness of not being able to give these guys the proper quality of life they deserve.

I have been in business with and covered up things for “business associates” who wouldn’t hesitate putting a bullet in your head, but being involved with and covering up for an employer who is a non-profit and allows vulnerable adults and employees to be harassed mistreated and discriminated against is far worse in my eyes. There are many people at the nursing home I work at who see the same things I see but do not act; as Haile Selassie so eloquently put it

Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

All of the people involved in my past life and unfortunately as of late too much of my current life chose “the life” and in the end we all end up in one of two places, we deserve whatever end to our means no matter how horrific or painful. Our residents on the other hand do not deserve the means that transpire until their end comes.

This is my apology to the residents that have come and gone who failed to receive the proper quality of life they deserved. I am sorry that I can no longer continue to fight for the change needed, it is destroying me. My old associates showed more mercy delivering people to their end, than the people I work for now. The people employed by this company who care are used and pushed until they break while the predators are allowed to continue to prey.

Non-profits are not supposed to be run like a criminal organization where fear and intimidation rule. Non-profits are supposed to be built upon something called “Duty of care.” If any one of the “criminals” who work at this nursing home is reading this let me define what duty of care means.

“Duty of care is the moral and legal obligation to attend to the safety and wellbeing of those they serve, those who work for them and others who come into contact with their operations.”

Now to wrap things up there may be some people who do not understand what the title of this entry has to do with the content. Below is a Youtube link of Justin Furstenfeld performing the song “Graceful Dancing.” After hearing his introduction to this powerful song, and seeing the familiar emotions during his performance I decided to check myself into the hospital which drastically changed the content of this post. For that I thank the artist and the person who posted this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCFpgfvPGZo&list=PLIWCEQoVmfdHIakN42xTrXYjPnE6I3EHB&index=55

 

I am sorry for my website looking different,  I am in the process of trying to update it, it’s not going great thus far. Just sitting here listening to music trying to hold it all together.

It feels cleansing and painful to just sit and cry. I am not ashamed that I break down, I just prefer to do it privately. 

I wake up every morning wishing I didn’t, and just hope I can get through the day. What kind of life I’d that?

 

Decaying Faces

Decaying faces

Buried in decaying places

Chasing dreams in empty spaces

Stench of death embraces

That which the light erases

Displaying those decaying faces

Replacing the traces

Of those decaying places

Those rearranged decaying faces

Lost alone in decaying places

Those dreams you chased in empty spaces

Reluctant to believe in warm embraces

Popping pills to find something that erases

A lonely walk that leaves no traces

The decay displacing those funny faces

Oddly drawn to those dark places

Where decaying faces erase the traces

Of empty spaces

Where death embraces

The places and empty spaces

Where light erases

The truth behind the decaying faces

Faces changing places

The memories it erases

Funny faces

Empty spaces

Decaying faces

Hidden in decaying places

Embracing those empty spaces

Erasing the traces of happy faces

By: TimLundmark

 

I enjoy philosophical riddles, and I spend far too less time working on them. The reasons do not matter. I am confronted with one riddle in particular day in and day out… Why have I not or cannot kill myself?

I have gone through my fair share of suffering, and for most of my life battled with the will and desire to no longer be alive. I have many times and still want to die. I do not want to exist. So why at this moment with how I feel and have felt I must ask myself. Why am I breathing and writing this?

This has been a philosophical puzzle that has plagued and tortured me. I have come up with many theories, reasons, and excuses for why I have not.

No point in running the list. What I came up with and I feel so blind for not figuring this out. Its our primal directive to survive. Its ingrained within us and drives everything. This directive is so powerful that I cannot overcome or find the courage to end my suffering.

To me logic and reason would dictate that ending suffering is the only thing that makes sense. Every other theory I have ever had about why I am still alive stems from this roadblock.

How can this override clear logic and reason of not wanting to suffer? How can this seed allow us to self deceive ourselves against the logical course of action. How and at what point can this will be broken down?