Six Days On, En'it?

Today has been a good and peaceful Sunday, 31 October 2010. After having been down in a post-vertigo-attack sleep of well over one hundred hours, I felt awake this morning, and was really not going back to bed. The certainty of this carried on with me the remainder of the day and am now well into the night.

With the back and at him's, that I am up and at 'em...the gloom and despair stirs and surrounds my very being with this draining of my energy, as when water drains into a gutter...I am exhausted yet my body pushes me on. I press rewind on my mind's VCR and watch and listen to the life I have had for the past three years...lots of other stuff has stirred too. I am trying to be so positive, but this bad medicine is sickening.

...I called the 211, last night. I don't remember the time. I just knew I needed to connect with some other human/person/spirit and listen to a different voice of reason. My bride was sound asleep, as were my daughters. I am not comfortable with the idea of waking them for Daddy's Issues, dig? Amy, thank you for listening.

Even though today is Sunday, I called both my therapist and my psychiatrist. Was able to speak with my therapist, Sir Dude. Listening and hearing his voice disengaged some energies growing uglier by the minute within. That's so not me...I am the one folks call whenever their lives hit pot holes on the Trail! Anyways, Sir Dude will call me in the morning to go over openings for a quick git'er done! I know it's the right thing to do. Just as it is the same with seeing my Dr. Psych. Sir Dude, thanks for listening!

My P.T. Lady called and confirmed tomorrow's therapy for the "physical" me. Exercise and balance/coordination exercises. I am looking very forward to this visit. Last week's vertigo attack was the first to erase an entire week of appointments. For this I am embarrassed. What is there for me to say? Are my utterances even heard? ...

Before I type much more, let me share a memory with you, real quick. I failed my first year of Grade Two. Right here in Tampa. I was diagnosed as being a "hyper-active" child...and sedated. Immediately. A real live child on adult medications. It was also right about this time I developed asthma, which required daily injections and pills and tablets...

...See, this whole process is something that runs through my veins...the poisoning began bleeding decades ago. Look, folks back then didn't communicate too fucking much. Or read, because I must have been a pretty good candidate for the Boy Poster Child with respect to being the sexually abused/raped/incested child that was screaming for help. But no one listened...no body heard, because these folks did not have ears. Nor eyes, because I dared not speak it; but shit, I sure was a silent screamer...had to be, you see.

I bring up the medicines of early childhood because I think it important to see how far I have not come from childhood. I never took pills/tabs/capsules for recreation. I didn't have to. I begin to open up about the life I have lived and am living and the life I want to live, because I suspect somehow, maybe even on a DNA level, all of this is related, somehow connected. Yes, I do.

Today was a wonderful day to be alive and it would've been just as wonderful a day to die.

I'm just being honest, en'he?

Walking The Path...

What about now?

Was stirred at five forty-five late afternoon...I know that if I were to return to bed I would sleep. Sleep so deep I dream...

Have slept more hours than I care to think about right now, so I won't.

It's deep in here right now...in my dream world, in my world when awake...it's dark up in the matter of brain where my thoughts of beliefs and love and understandings and memories reside...where I live.

Attached...detached...distracted...dark...

Okay, right about now?

May I Wake Up Now?

I ask if it might be okay for me to wake up for a spell. Have slept so much that I am exhausted and want to go back to sleep. Am I sleeping myself to death? Am I going to hell?

Today is Friday, 29 October, 2010. Have slept so much it would require that I grab my golden calculator to add or multiply or divide or figure what would the square root of too much be...it would inform me I have slept well over sixty hours. Is this a sin? Should I be punished? Am I going to hell? Remember the movie "Seven"?

Woke up just a few minutes ago. It is 12:25 p.m. Am thinking I should return to my Safe Place and return to sleep...so I don't have to be awake to feel these symptoms or think of these things dashing through my brain/mind or listen to anything/anyone/anyhow/anyway.

NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO SLEEP!! YES, I DO! NO, I DON'T!!

SHHHHHHHHIT!!! SHHHHHHHHHit!!! Shhhhhit!! Shhit! Shit! Shit! shit...

Meniere's Disease, Psyche Manifest Psychosis, Part IV

Have been asleep and disconnected, for the majority of Life since Monday...forty plus hours. This Meniere's Disease is so damned stupid...

...My body, muscles, joints and knuckles feel pained and ache as if I have just been beaten up good and proper...as in an old fashioned ass-whooping that I deserve...Karma?

Woke up this afternoon by the recorded voice of a politician who made an ass of himself on The CNN...must have been something that turned me all sideways, because it was then that I decided to get up from that mattress, even if but for a few minutes...say greetings to them reading these words. Have grown weary of the Cyber-Socials...I suspect a change approaches. But then, I don't know how much longer or lesser a duration... these cyber-social places have helped me keep in touch with folks. I hate this separation! This exile! Wait, how about the medications?...pills, capsules, tabs and chemicals....my memory serves me far too well...even with the scars of these thousands of pills and medications.

...My Path has had similar forks come my way before. So many...whether it was to be as it was to be or not...I kept on walking. I had to.

As a wee little boy being taught how to do things unrelated to being a wee little shit, being taken to baseball practice and baseball games by a man who made me do things unrelated to baseball for years. He lived two doors down from us...as a 9 year old, being approached from behind by a cigar smoking old son-of-a-bitch, at the Casino in Ybor City. The rape and sexual abuse from childhood stopped in 1978. It had to. My memories still serve me just too damn well...

...back in the 1980s when I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa and at the time, being the only male on record with this disorder, in all of Miami. The therapies, the pills, and such...then the Bulimia, in the late 80s and early 90s to help ease my way back. Oh, it was so damn painful and dreadful to see myself gain back so much weight so fast...

Then the years of self abuse...putting myself in harm's way in so many different ways, sex, herbs, and hashish while in Germany, some rock and roll - not much though, and subjecting myself to punishments that I thought fitting...for someone like me.

...All of this preceded the coming out of the sexual abuse I mentioned earlier... which brought along with it the memories, therapy and groups...a whole new set of them medications, pills, syrups and such...yes, damnit, my memory serves me far to fucking well...


A little self-observation please; I have noticed that my ego and I visit very bleak and dark places post-vertigo attack. My Dear Lord.

...have slept approximately forty hours since Monday...I must return.

Whatever has been written, has been written. I am sorry for being here. I am sorry for going there...I just wonder how much stronger can I be? I am so sorry because I must say, I wish you a blessed and peaceful day...knowing I'm about to eat some pills and go back to sleep.

It's just me and my Psyche Manifest Psychosis, Ole, Mario.

p.s There is not an instruction book that accompanies me on my Path. I walk forward with my face upright. Forks and roundabouts are part of my journey here on Earth Mother. I know I have fought many battles and many a war from within, it is as a piece of thread to connect a piece of fabric to another...my life before my eye orbs and my right-good-bad-ear reminds me I am a Survivor and a Warrior. So, I move on. Please, you all don't fret none. It's just me and my memories.

Vertigo Attack on a Monday Afternoon.

Seems like it has been several hours ago, six or so, when this nausea, noises, dizziness, bad sweats and holding on to my innards came about...I am certain and reckon I did have a vertigo attack earlier this afternoon. Have slept a larger portion of today than I would like to share, but then this appears to be my Meniere's MO.

I had full left-ear sensations earlier today, which just does not make sense. There are none of the parts that could create this symptom. My right ear has been swelling and popping as if I had been swimming...for hours and yet, have not been in the pool for weeks. Yet, still another oddity...the last surgery was to have assisted me with these full right ear sensations. I wait.

I did revert to an ole eating disorder secret I had years ago, in attempt to curb this bleeding nausea. I failed. The nausea is present with urgency.

As is the dizziness. I feel a band of dizziness around my inner head...a constant reminder to watch every step...navigate every turn on purpose...keep the night lights on. A dizzy person?

I feel the perspiration slide down my back...I am still and can see the wet spots on my grey t-shirt. I am in an air-conditioned house and am sweating as if exposed to the humid night out of doors. I have perspired more today than I have in a spell. If this does not ease up...I am uncertain as to what to do. Call and hold hands with my doctor or his assistant. I eat the pills, capsules and chemicals.

"Oh, isn't he such a fine patient." "Always so kind."...while all along, I look in the mirror...every day and see the who-I-was then to the what-the-fuck? today...damn near every-damn-day.

I am listening to crow-sized Cicadas in my right ear...so loud! So obnoxiously loud! I want to scream! If I scream loud enough will I stop hearing these foiken cicadas! If it was not for my Bride and hounds all asleep I would try. Think I'll yell and scream later...in the morn!

Have noticed that if I keep my mouth closed about these things, folks tend to leave me be. I am alone right now. Down right lonely too. Maybe if I stop talking about this disease and what the fuck it does to me...maybe folks go on and just leave me alone.

Yeah, I know...

...nesting...

As Fall ever so slowly approaches us here in the Deep South, I have this emerging urge to nest. Please don't ask and I don't know...

I have gotten on my hands and knees to scrub the tub AND toilet in mine and Brenda's cave...scrubbed the sink and vanity(yes, I did say vanity). What? Wiped down my too large of a collection of oils and scents, gathered and packed all unneeded medical supplies and medications. Well, actually, I bagged them...but anyways, I have purged myself of "stuff" that is simply not needed or not used. Honey yes, I have a To Be Donated box open and ready...we donate to the ACRC. I hope no one gets pissed that I should say who I donate to, and if I have pissed someone off, oops, it's Happy Hour down at the pub. Lawdy, I digress! I have one of those huge garden bags just about full of rubbish. Questions...Does a house lose weight when purged of excess? Does dust reproduce? No. Really. I've seen spots here that the dust has become some sort of community. Folks politicizing here with their little posters...

Look, I don't know why I'm nesting. I don't understand. No, I'm not pregnant, not to the best of my knowledge anyways. Kinfolks would say and think I had one just because my niece just had a baby boy this week...may be I just want to help my bride, maybe I feel the want to tidy and task, maybe it's the wish to purge...to eliminate...I don't know. Yet.

This is what I do know, I now return to the task and tidy...prepare for the Winter ahead...soon it comes. It's going to be a cold one...

peace, love and understanding,
It's me, Mario!

p.s. Pushing The Envelope!!

...here comes the night...

The night is thick with darkness out of doors. The bright stars and soon-to-be full Moon provide the only light here on the preserve. The night bird sings her song of sorrow and I ache for her in my Spirits...it is said the night is darkest right before sunrise...tonight, I'm not so sure.

Sometimes, after I have swallowed my p.m. medications--the ones with barbs, thorns and tacks--I can taste the flavour of mein own blood and drink it as I would a Bloody Mary with extra hot sauce to make my throat scream for mercy. How many different medications am I eating? I forget. Some work - some do not - all have some sort of broken glass or something sharp attached.

On occasion, one of these medications--the one with the double-edged razors, the one that is prescribed to ease the noises in my head--fails me. So I listen. Tonight, I listen to the Brazilian Rain Forest, with crickets that sound as if these are the size of the panthers that roam the forest floor...there is a 727 parked in my back yard that has been prepared for take off the past hour or so, but it goes nowhere. Like the helicopters last night and the HONK!! and blasting of a cruise ship anchored in my pool...all are my guests, you see. All are guests...

The noises in my left ear are so clear and are what I perceive to be audible; yet are all some sort of false feedback from a prior time...a time when I did listen and hear with it. Today, I still do, but I don't really.

I want to smoke a cigarette, but I don't smoke.

My dear doctor has informed me that hearing voices is something that some patients with Meniere's disease deal with, that it is not unheard of, and patients have been known to hear entire conversations. Yet, my dear doctor does advise that I do mention it to my Mental Health Care professionals. So I will. Hearing and listening to voices in between my ears is nothing new for me...talking about it is.

By the way, no, I do not conversate with myself.

Really?

What Does Forever Mean? What?

If what you say is nothing is forever, then why does it seem so in my skull...between my ears. Between the one that is deaf and the one that is my right-bad-good-ear. Makes me wonder how I've made it from there to here.

I want to be one with the hemisphere...spread my wings as wide as these wings will open and take me to a place far from here. Not over there or out-there or somewhere or somehow - just let me get out of this fear.

Sho you right that I've got the rest of my days to live, but what's right with living when one can't hear. Listen to silence while I wait for the next spinning cycle in my brain to engage and lay with me down here...

...which gives me all the time in this whole wide world to think of the different ways I can hurt myself...harm myself. To cut, pierce, slice or shear.

What? I haven't said anything that isn't clear. What? Maybe listen sometime...listen to the sound of a tear...that has fallen off my face and is now away from here.

What?

Grade A Therapy, Just Me and the Dude...

I had not visited my Mental Health Professional in roughly two weeks due to health issues Monday morning 04.October.2010, and then the vertigo attack that evening kept me in medical exile much longer than usual. To top this off, this week there were situations and issues providing high stress and anxiety for me to make today's appointment. Fortunately, all went well, and my brother-in-law was able to drive me to and from. I knew too damn well not to miss this appointment...two weeks or more without therapy is not a good thing for me. Waiting that long between visits was too taxing...perhaps too dangerous.

Anyways...I made it for the session, and my Dude, my therapist, was ready and had his Game Face on. It was all in the way he spoke and conducted the session, I suspect. But let me share that once the ball got to rolling, all-the-good-goodness-mental-liquid-poop hit the fan! From every direction, Honey! It got quite messy and stinky up in there....I cried from the gut, heart, mind and Spirits...and time flew as if I had just sat down on my favorite big comfy chair. Oh, my dear Relations, I so went and took it there! No BULL! I took it to this place where it is off and odd limits, and my Dude, he came along with me. That's why I visit my Dude. No, really. Even gave me homework!

#1. I am to coordinate an appointment at the "Y" around the corner and up a block or two from my home for a tour. He has spoken with someone there about what type of therapeutic programs and/or classes for one walking on a Path like mine may participate in...then being chubby on top of that too. Bless his heart, he was so positive and upbeat about it, some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on me...looks like I may be joining the "YMCA," y'all.

#2. Blog more often...

...and #3, is to have my physical therapist have me do outside workouts more often.

Well, I won't even take this any further. There is no need in going into subject matter. True? One thing I will share is my shoes feel a bit more comfortable today. Have to give the Dude an A+!

Today is a good day to die. It is also a beautiful day to be alive.

Thank you God!

Meniere's Disease, Psyche Manifest Psychosis, Part III

I would love to be all present, calm, and positive about the all that there is...not only for whomever may read these words, but most importantly for me, myself and my self-preservation. Things are just not working out too well. Not right now, any damn way! Nor today, the yesterday, nor the yester-month.

For so many years, I have often been the one who is always present, positive, and full of optimism...an optimist's optimist, dig? Even now, there are folks who expect me to conduct and live in such a manner...if I could, I would with true grit.

Let me clarify some things real quick like this...I am a loving Dad to two beautiful, wonderful and intelligent daughters...I am married to my Sweet Georgia Peach/Latina and boyhood girlfriend for over thirty years now. We've been together since we were young teens getting into shit I wouldn't tell my daughters about. Her family welcomed me, and I became part of another whole set of kinfolk who love me as I love them all. Yes, I know and I know very well my sisters and brothers love me as I love them with my heart, mind, and spirits. As this is the way of Relations. (I know my kid brother David is dead, but I bet we still love one another, damnit!)

There is a circle of friends I am very thankful for, folks I am honored to be able to refer to as my Relations. Knowing the love is real and unconditional. Am so pleased to share I have had the opportunity of lifetimes to have been recently reunited with four quality friends...the ones that float in your bloodstream close, like them in my circle, ya know? I am blessed with fantastic neighbors in our neighborhood...even my neighbor from the North and I have established a pleasant kinship...relations.

My relations are doing what it is they must to survive in this society, this world we live in...their lives, their concerns, their children, their occupation and the all that is all in their lives.

Why is it then, that I still cry? Why is it that these medications I take for Meniere's and depression are not working? Why is it that even with so much I have just shared, it can't seem to help me get to a better place? What is this better place supposed to look like? I don't know. Why is it that a company that I was a partner in/of for many years had to release me from something I had a great passion for? Why is it that I miss my work place so much? I miss my peers, our partners and yes, friends established in a company that provided me with an occupation that was not a job...it was a joy.

How is it then, even with a phenomenal health and mental health team but a phone call away, I still cry myself to sleep. Still so lonely! So alone! So afraid! Still feel so unpretty...so unhandsome, if it pleases your thought process. It's all the same-same to me!

It is as if I am an American Eagle who has had his feathers cut short to keep from taking to flight - roped to a wooden post. A bear in a cage. A fox who has his paw clamped in a hunters trap - tearing, and biting and doing his best to reach freedom and hopefully adaptation with the three sure and strong paws.

The sounds in my head are speaking to me now...along with the universe of noises between my deaf left ear and my right-bad-good-ear...now I must listen to voices. Have mentioned noises before, that's why I'm not going there. Just like the constant state of dizziness...it's always there! Just on different frequencies.

Think I need a new Tat. My thoughts are turning against me...memories of the things I did to punish myself back-back in the day...the dreadful things I would do to myself and my body. Being in the position and place of mind to punish all of me. I am exhausted and worn. My thoughts turn to the dark side of me when I'm in this place.

IT'S NOT YOU ALL!!! IT'S ME!!! CAN'T YOU SEE!!!!

It's only me, and my psyche manifest psychosis.

Columbus Day...

Since I was but a wee little turd, I have always detested Columbus Day. I remember the stories from the old people. I will always remember the history I was able to read, and I read them over and over. I still read these books of "American Indian" history...via the eyes and words of them who were here first...First Nations. Some of these books were/are so painfully white-written that it makes me sick knowing it ...yet I read them anyway...looking for a new piece of information, some error, something odd...

What were my ancestors really thinking when they laid eyes on the boats of many different flags, languages, and diseases. Instead of a welcome, let them know they were unwelcomed.

Why have we not ever considered that what was committed onto our peaceful folks of this land was genocide? Entire nations are extinct, as are hundreds of native languages...

Look, I could yackity-yack about this subject forever...raving and ranting. But I won't. I'll simply say and share this from the bottom of my mixed-blood heart and ass...

FUCK COLUMBUS DAY!

Really.
Mario

Attacked In The Night, To Conclude

Since very early Tuesday wee morning, I have probably slept 50 hours and no, I do not feel well-rested, I actually feel the opposite. Was stirred by my RN this afternoon at 4:00 p.m. Since the RN's visit I have fought to remain awake. My BP was low @ 128/82 and my BM's normal..."his" special concerns for me, you see. I had a nice walk-about the back yard this afternoon...a nice pace-about, more like it...just as a Bear paces in his zoo keeper's enclosure. Had talks with the birds, plants and my neighbors. I think that soon I'll be back in bed, but for now I probably need to sit up a spell. Listening to some Miss Grace Jones...she's so adorable!

The dizziness and lack of coordination are very troublesome...used the walker earlier. I sure don't want that to become a part of my future! Shit! Same post-attack rubbish...NAUSEA!, sweats, stutter, etc.

...and at this very moment, I am listening to crickets the size of those huge, scary yellow grasshoppers...they've got to be that big to make this much noise! OH MY GOD THE NOISE! (I really have always been afraid of those grasshoppers, too!) Anyways, this Meniere's is here, and there is not much that can be done about it, besides take my medication as directed--and deal with it, Honey. I continue to experience the swelling and release in my right ear, and also continue to experience the odd tunnel hearing.

One of the most sickening and hurtful symptoms/side effects for me is seeing what this does to my family, neighbors and friends, to "all of my relations." How this BS Meniere's has changed The-All-That-Was-Me is still well and far beyond my simple grasp. I miss contact with my Relations. I miss contact with Folks! I wish more folks phoned me or offer a short trip to the Coffee Shop down the street for a latte or just a "holla" every once and again would be out-of-this-world fantastic!!

Oh yes, post-vertigo attacks are creatures all in and of their own.

Sometimes I lay in bed and think about branding myself...but then this is another subject for another talk.

La Vie en Rose,
Mario

peace to all my relations...

Attacked In The Night, Part II

This is Day Two from the vertigo attack...my entire body, from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet, hurts and aches. I am exhausted and sleepy as if I have not been asleep since Monday night/Tuesday morning's wee hours. Am up and awake just long enough to take my daily medications, have a sip-o-juice, enter a few words here, then back to bed and soon off to sleep.

The dizziness that accompanies the vertigo attacks is sickening. It is cruel and unusual, and I sometimes think I am being punished for past sins and indiscretions...or wonder is it the sins of my father. I wonder and contemplate this often...

...Yet the dizziness is something that I am having to learn to live with. It stays and lives within me every-damn-day of my life. It is as if I am very truly in an all-out war against this dizziness and disease. Some days are not too bad; some days are worse, and then some days are so bad I just stay in my safe place - where I can't get hurt, won't be harmed, or assumed a drunk; here in my safe place, I will not get stared at as if I was a grotesque creature/person from the Carnival.

I have said enough. My mind and body direct me to get away...

peace, Mario

Attacked In The Night

Between 1:50 and 1:55 this morning I had a vertigo attack. Just a wee bit prior, I suspected something was going on in mine skull, when I was provided with the notion that I best get to bed. First was a very, very loud honk, as if blasted by a semi-truck parked in my back yard. Oh. This was loud. I have had a spectrum of noises and sounds linger, but there was something way different with the Honk-Honk. I then experienced some form of tunnel hearing, as if listening through a large straw. So odd, but so real.

As I gathered my book, highlighter and pen, my right ear seemed to fill with something, like air in a balloon, then very shortly after felt a release of whatever was in there - ear farts? My balance and coordination became strained and way off-center.

Just as I entered my room, a flush of warm temperature rushed through my veins, body, brain and mind. I was on my bed and in my safe place next to my pictures of Jesus, when within a few moments my room and my life became a violently spinning-out-of-control, dreadfully ugly place. I refrain from the use of profanity which I so want to use right now. The Nausea Odometer was at an 8, and was non-productive.

My bride slept on next to me, and I could hear her breath. I held on to her hand until both our hands became moist with perspiration. I finally had to wake her so I could hear her voice. I needed to hear her voice! As my world whirled out of control, my bride provided me with medication that "assist" me in these situations. We spoke briefly and continued to hold hands. I watched and tried to focus...am I supposed to wear glasses during a vertigo attack?

Round about 4 a.m., the spinning subsided enough that I was able to begin to collect myself...last I looked at the clock, it said 4:45.

Had to cancel PT and RN today. Will call in the morrow.

As for now, I'll return to my bed and safe place to drift back to sleep. My entire being is exhausted. My body and mind are sore and aching.
Pardon me, please, as I must go.

peace, Mario

Meniere's Disease, Psyche Manifest Psychosis, Part Two

Earlier today, while in the cement pond doing what I thought was the right thing by kicking with my leg's and force my arm's just under surface for friction, I received a telephone call from my PT person. When I shared with her about my poolercise (my word), she smiled as I could hear it in her voice, but Miss. PT informed, reported, and communicated to me that, nope, I was NOT doing the right thing.

I am not permitted in the cement pond with-out supervision.

No, I did not connect-the-dot's. My goof. Don't ask.

She will be here in just a few hours. I sure hope we have a peaceful and productive session come morning.

Peace...

Meniere's Disease, Psyche Manifest Psychosis

There is not a picture in my mind yet of what it is, My Path, has in store for me as I travel this way...which in my word's and or advice to many individual's whose Path have crossed mine; is quite simply to follow my/your nose...so, simple enough, and a really fine and good direction if one has a destination or a direction on the map on my lap. My Inner-Self, seems lost and confused or in a constant state of unrest.

I have visited places in my head-brain-mind that I had forgotten were up there...tucked away, neatly folded in the crevice's of my brain and the matter that surrounds my brain...my mind...locked up and tucked in with a metal plate. One of the operation's I had called, The Vestebular Nerve Section, required the use of "saw's", to gain entry into my very thick skull...I had hearing memories for weeks! But please, pardon my digress...as a bonus with this operation my Good Doctor, touched and gently made way for the surgery at hand...with his hand. No one had ever touched my brain before...my brain was laid bare and was touched by the air we were breathing...touched by this very special Doctor...as God observed and Blessed the going's on's...

Memorie's, Flash Back's, Smell Memorie's, old one's - new one's, black and white one's and Technicolour one's...almost as if when moved, the ole fellow was stirred up just a bit...

My psychoanalyst has piggy-backed my antdepression medicine with another. I hope we're not playing dart's with the med's...I am unsure as to how I might approach this matter with my doctor. My therapist provides me an avenue with which to communicate, but damnit...my Inner-self is saying I need more than what is being done or not done. What is being said or not said...the TALK's WITH OTHER'S I miss and require as an individual named Me.

My crying is done when I am home alone - which is most of the time and am able to scream into my pillow in solitude...sometime's I'll howl with my loving hound's, Ting-Ting and Chi-Chi...I cry late at night...like now, while my Bride's asleep...

Being SSD and Hard of Hearing is all out depressing! It sucks something really bleeding bad! There have been too many times when I have experianced total silence. My balance is such that a broken bone is more than likely, inevitable. Have been blessed and have walked a fortuitous path over the passed two and one half years. Scrapes, bumps and bruises.

I am not permitted to ride my trike. Unsupervised.
I am not permitted to walk down the street with walker, unsupervised...

...have not driven my car in over one year.

Am slowly becoming afraid of the dark. The Dark is Dark and when silence is so loud it roars in my one-good-bad-ear. The Dark speaks to me...and I try not to listen! I try real hard! There's just sometimes when I am aware and sensitive to so very many energies within my space that sometimes I suspect I am going mad.

Those who were once freind's have scattered like the falling Autumn leaves... I am lonely and alone. Am very lonely and alone...

It's me Mario, and my psyche manifest psychosis.