The Pre-Semester Email Purge...and other shit...

I feel, lost, a lot. I spent the better part of a decade without medication for my diagnosed case of "Severe Depression" otherwise known as Major Depressive Disorder. One of the side effects of letting this disorder run rampant is it pretty much starts to erode brain functionality, most importantly memory. Memory is important to me, possibly more than most, because I can relive those moments with absolute clarity, the smells, the sounds, all of my senses are back with me in the moment of memory.

Since getting my meds adjusted as needed and staying on them regularly some memories have returned. But like anything in life nothing works the way you want, and what has been happening is that my long term storage is finally coming back online slowly, while my short term storage is suffering from power draws due to the long term coming back online, so I am getting the long term back, but my short term is mostly useless right now.

This is one of the reasons why I never wanted to attempt to work, even part time, and go to school, because my memory is in such a state of flux that I don't want to risk losing important data.

But now I am pushing myself to do just that.

I work in a call-center, 40+ hours a week, 10.5 an hour, 15.75 ot, and love/hate it, but the pay is damn good for sitting on my ass all day.

A couple weeks ago I realized I have quite a bit of downtime in small spurts and told myself to lug my backpack to work, and instead of drawing or coloring, or designing Sudoku puzzles for the rest of the employees to enjoy, I need to do my homework. Suddenly it seemed way less stressful. So I have a plan and I will see it through.

So, tonight I purged.

I have a habit of skimming my email, reading the important ones, and just leaving the unread ones to digitally molder. This is not conducive to good conduct during the semesters because shit gets lost, so I did my purge, and already I feel just a little bit more prepared.

There were over 4000 emails in just the promotions tab, like for fuck sake. All gone now, save the read/important ones in my main inbox.

In the time since I last posted, I have left the church, willingly and with a heavy heart, because the old white patriarchal men running the church have lost their way, and I refused to be led by them like a sheep to slaughter.

I have embraced my true gender and sexuality, I am mostly male presenting (I paint my nails), Pansexual, Pangender. Also a Unicorn.

My wife and I reached a point where we finally dissected what my relationship hang ups were, and realized that I was Polyamorous the entire time, but I was letting societal bullshit tamp it down. Also realized my father probably was too, because some of his behaviors seem indicative of someone who is capable and willing to love multiple partners.

Oh yeah, and I am starting my final year, ever, at IUSB as I finish up my Masters in Creative Writing.

I started this path late in the game, but I still feel accomplished getting my masters at 32, sure it could have been in my twenties, but then all of the things that shaped me in the interim wouldn't have happened, and I kind of like who I am now...most days anyway. :P

Cheers,

Chris

(Hopefully I will turn this blogging thing into a habit)

So...I made a thing...for the internets...

CLASSMATES (and Prof maybe) ASSEMBLE!

Step 1: Go Here: https://www.facebook.com/1985VintageGeek/posts/10153342916542018?pnref=story

Step 2: Make with the funny!

Step 3: Get in my book...not my belly!

Step 4: ???

Step 5: Profit!

Photo Post!

This is my current workspace (and Playspace). I decided not to pick up first to actually show how I keep my desk and not be all phony with a perfectly clean desk. Note, I know where everything is on the desk that I may need. Messy is a type of organized dammit.

 And this is a photo I took that I like very much. Can you tell what it is?

Why?

I opened my stats
a stat nerd you might say
in my tired haze
my classmates wave

the majority of views
and click-throughs
all arrive via a book
which is currently

exploding

but a small incongruity
stares at me from the bottom
of a list of sites
from which they were

referred to mine
a book exploding
sixteen plus times
and one from

google.co.uk

Everything I Know Up Until Now

I looked down and there was the son
I never had, his face reminding me of a katydid in spring,

young and full of spirit ready to pounce upon
the day in his blue jeans. We stood staring at each

other for a time in which we just studied each other
our faces and souls. In me there was no doubt

never pregnant but this boy was mine I crouched down and
took his hand, warm and small, in mine and said "I'm Annabelle."

In which I read and rate four poems...

These poems come from the 2015 Pushcart Prize Best of the small presses.

I order these by preference of would read again, to good god don't make me read it again.

1. Why we must support PBS by Bob Hicok

I really enjoyed this one because the absurdity of the imagery is astounding and makes sense since the narrator seems to be drifting off to sleep, lord knows I have heard some strange shit on TV while tired.

2. Rape Joke by Patricia Lockwood

Wow! This one, it hits like a semi, you want to laugh the entire way through because you can tell its better than remembering the suffering the narrator went through. This poem may have changed me just a bit.

3. John Clare by Michael Dickman

Woof! This one is long and full of intense images, the length kills it for me though. I may never get the image of kids kissing dogs full on the mouth out of my head any time soon.

4. "Too many pigeons to count and one dove" by Mary Szybist

Hate to put her at the bottom because I have met her and enjoy a lot of her poetry, but this one the form just kept derailing me. All I can tell you without looking again is that there are time stamps...and a poem too...but mostly I remember the time stamps.

(Note: Could not find an online version of Mary's poem...so I linked her profile instead...)