YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

Thank you for posting, HDIGH.

1. Supervising yourself at a subconscious level
2. Deciding up front, everything that is real

That's a scary amount. That is tiring.

I agree, beany. That's where I am a lot of the time, though. Second guessing every thought to see if it's addictive, avoiding, hypomanic, or delusional. Kinda makes it seem like sleeping on concrete is easy in comparison.

I'm debating giving myself a haircut so I can feel a little less hobo-gross. Only problem is I only have a beard trimmer anymore, so it's pretty much all or nothing. I've done a close buzz before and my gf said it looked like a serial killer.

I can't decide whether the current crazy look is better or worse than that.

Hmmm...

Sorry, it sounds like I'm illness-shaming you. Just trying to sit with what you're saying.

Oh, no worries. I didn't take it as anything other than a sincere response. It seems like a lot of my past three years has been subconscious self-destruction as punishment for past sins. Unfortunately, that self-destructive behavior just adds to the list of sins to punish myself for.

And at this point, the only person I'm regularly in contact with has been so harmed by me, she can't do anything other than catalog back those harms to me. Which makes it REALLY hard to stop trying to burn the world down.

How nuts my life is right now.

I haven't showered or put on clean clothes in two weeks at least.

At the same time, I offered to network for a random guy I met at Starbucks who's looking for a project manager job (I know a guy who is a VP at some big company).

I'm also getting more kudos at work than ever before, even though I am working almost entirely on my mobile phone.

I am a study in just how crazy one can live without anyone fully catching on.

As the recovery people say, imagine what you could accomplish if you weren't spending so much energy trying to get up to normal.

Great stuff, as always.

I experience pure joy when I see a new post here.

btw, I was astonished, when I was working poor, how easy it is to pass as "middle class" and/or "respectable": shaved head, 2 for $70 glasses, teeth cleaned at the community college, $12 khakis from Walmart.

Just look like I am know what I'm doing, where I'm going: frown, carry some papers, and walk quickly: the invisible Everyman.

Thanks, oak. You'd probably really appreciate the funny random moment of the day today.

I was walking around just now and as I was crossing the street, a Jamaican woman in nurse's scrubs passes me on the phone, hollering "since sliced bread?" again and again.

Even normal people are nuts. Lol

A few scenes from here:

As I was wandering for lunch yesterday, an old south Asian man with a spine like a question mark asked me if I would help him cross an especially busy and dangerous intersection. Once I understood what he was actually asking, I was glad to say yes. He was so unsteady on his feet that we had to walk at what could be best described as an extremely gentle meandering pace. Having to slow down so much became an exercise in walking meditation, as I was suddenly having to pay attention to whether I was walking too fast and whether I was providing enough support to him. We paused for an extra light change in the median strip, but once we were all the way across, he went on his way and I went mine.

I was working in a Starbucks, not having bought anything but using their WiFi, when I heard a particularly amped up employee ask his boss whether they could ask people to leave who were just "using their space." Basically, people like me. I've been wary about going back ever since, but there really isn't much of an alternative anywhere in the area.

Having heard it so often recently, I've been mulling over the lyrics to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_O1Nv3n0ac. Specifically, if he's doing all these supposedly wonderful things for her, why is she so lucky that he likes them, too? It makes it sound like if he didn't like them, he wouldn't be doing them—which kinda undermines the whole romantic angle, doesn't it? It also strikes me as a very gangster rap kind of misogyny, even if it's all dressed up in R&B stylings. "Now I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger," I'm just giving her my wallet and acting like it's love.

Women can't win for nothing in this world. Makes me wonder why there hasn't ever been a woman up in a clock tower with a high-powered rifle.